


Howling at the Full Moon, Like We Do

by meowvelous



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Background Relationships, F/F, How Do I Tag, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Violence, Pack, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Past Relationship(s), Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Indulgent, Slice of Life, minor gore, no beta we die like witchers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24145492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowvelous/pseuds/meowvelous
Summary: Jaskier used to know Ciri. Now, getting to know her again, means getting to know her friends. Which includes the gorgeous Geralt Rivia. Of course, there’s no world where a guy like Geralt is interested in someone like Jaskier… Except for how Geralt keeps looking at him.Soon, Jaskier realizes there’s more going on beneath the surface. This may be a terrible decision… Or the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Renfri | Shrike, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 103
Kudos: 357





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [waves sheepishly] this is among the more self-indulgent things I've written. I don't know where I'm going with this, but I'm having fun, and I hope you enjoy it too!
> 
> I don't think this comes with any real content warnings, but if you do think I've neglected to tag for something, please don't be afraid to let me know; either in a comment, or on twitter (I'm @thegr8atuin)! Ditto if you spot a typo/spelling error/etc. 
> 
> Story title is from "Song for a Mermaid" by Erica Freas, who's music I highly recommend!
> 
> Also!! Comments are much loved and appreciated!

It was finally the weekend, and Jaskier was reveling in _not_ having to get up way too early. He slipped in and out of a doze, grabbing his phone to hit the snooze whenever the alarm went off. About the third time this happened, another notification on the lock-screen caught his eye.

 _Facebook Messenger_  
 _Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon:  
_ _Hey Jaskier, is this still your number? 416-555-0134_

There was an unpleasant jolt in his stomach, dragging him away from the realm of sleep into full awareness. Jaskier stared blankly at the message, reading and re-reading it. while still not entirely sure that it was real.

Something about his shift in breathing must have told his cat that he was awake. Luna jumped onto the bed and crawled onto her owner, meowing a loud request to be fed breakfast.

Jaskier closed his eyes, breathing out hard, before reluctantly pulling himself out of bed. He left his phone plugged into the charger as he went through his morning routine; brushed his teeth, went to the bathroom, fed the cat, put the kettle on. When he backtracked to his bedroom to get changed from pajamas into comfortable clothing, Jaskier grabbed his phone before wandering back into the kitchen.

After making up his coffee just the way he liked it (two scoops of instant coffee crystals, two scoops of white sugar; half water and half milk) and pouring himself a bowl of cereal, Jaskier sat at the table. He unlocked his phone but didn’t open the message, choosing instead to check Instagram and Twitter.

He finished breakfast, before steeling himself and opening up the Facebook messenger app. Taking a deep breath, Jaskier selected his conversation with Ciri. The last message, previous to the one from that morning, was a cat meme he sent four years ago.

They had met the first year of university, at an event for freshmen who were living off campus. Ciri was sixteen, a year younger than most first-years, and Jaskier was nineteen. Their respective age gaps between everyone else had caused them to gravitate towards each other, forming a fast friendship; one that lasted for all four years of their undergrad. 

That was, until the beginning of their final month of classes. Ciri had texted him, “I’m dropping out,” and hadn’t replied to any of his five texts asking for clarification. Jaskier gave up after that, and it had been radio silence for four years, until that morning.

Jaskier stared at the message from Ciri, debating what to do. Reluctantly, he typed out a reply; _Yeah, it is_ , and sent it. Immediately, a green circle appeared next to Ciri’s picture, showing she was online, and ‘seen’ flashed up below Jaskier’s message.

Then Jaskier’s phone vibrated with a text, re-opening the text chain from four years ago.

 **Ciri:** Hi

 **Jaskier:** Hi

 **Ciri:** How are you?

 **Jaskier:** Confused, mostly

There was a lull of several minutes, before Ciri replied.

 **Ciri:** That’s fair. Can we meet?

Considering it, Jaskier bit his lip. Part of him still stung from his friend’s disappearance but... He missed her. He missed the friendship that they had.

 **Jaskier:** Okay. What were you thinking?

 **Ciri:** Drinks? Me and some friends were planning to go to McAnally's tonight

The name sounded vaguely familiar. Jaskier pulled up his browser and plugged in the name; it brought up a pub in the north end of the city, farther out than he usually ventured. Belatedly, Jaskier realized that it meant Ciri had stayed local after dropping out, that they had been living in the same city without him even knowing it. 

It took a second to look up the transit route he’d have to take to get there, though it turned out to be fairly simple. At least, he reflected, that it meant it would be easy to make excuses and bail if things got too awkward.

 **Jaskier:** Sure.

 **Ciri:** Great! See you there at 11?

 **Jaskier:** Okay. See you then.

Letting out a long sigh, Jaskier put down his phone and dropped his face into his hands. That gave him only about twelve hours to second-guess himself.

***

To distract himself, Jaskier spent most of the day going errands; getting groceries, doing meal prep for the next week. After dinner, he sat down with his guitar and tried to work on some songs that had been bouncing around his head. There was a restless energy running through him, though, and eventually he just gave up. He turned to Netflix for distraction, until it was time to head out.

Using directions pulled from Google, Jaskier managed to find his way to McAnally's. There wasn’t a line-up to get in, though an intimidatingly tall bouncer lurked in front of the doors. “Yes?” The bouncer asked, raising his eyebrows as Jaskier came to a halt in front of him.

“Hello!” Jaskier tried to project confidence he wasn’t feeling at the moment. “Uh... Can I... go in?”

“Depends.” The bouncer replied, crossing his arms and giving him an evaluating look. “Why are you here?”

“To see... my friend?” Jaskier wasn’t sure how else to respond. When that failed to impress the bouncer, Jaskier pulled out his phone to text Ciri.

 **Jaskier:** I’m outside. Big tall and scary doesn’t want to let me in?

 **Ciri:** Tell him you’re with Rivia.

Still confused, Jaskier relayed that to the bouncer, who reluctantly nodded and finally, stepped aside. “Don’t cause any trouble.” He warned Jaskier.

“Right, of course, thank you.” Jaskier aimed for a charming grin, though judging by the tick in the bouncer’s jaw, it came off as grating. Beginning to wonder what he was getting himself into, Jaskier made his way down a set of stairs and finally stepped into the bar.

The bar was slightly dim, lacking natural light. Most surfaces were made of wood, and the booths were padded with a deep red leather. There was a decent crowd, which Jaskier began scanning for Ciri. Before he could spot her, she found him. The only warning he got was her calling out his name, loud enough to be heard over the music playing from the sound system, before she crashed into him. 

Ciri wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hard enough hug that he swore he heard his bones creak in protest. “Hi Ciri,” Jaskier managed to wheeze, feeling like the breath was being squeezed from him.

Immediately, Ciri released him and took two quick steps back. She was still smiling widely, bright-eyed. “God, it’s good to see you!”

“You too,” Jaskier found himself smiling back, even as he took note of how she’d changed since he’d last seen her. Her hair was longer, her face slightly more angular. She looked... well, older. More like an adult, instead of the timid teenager that he remembered. His smile dimmed slightly, as he was reminded, again, of how long it’d been.

Ciri seemed to read his mood, biting her lip. “I—” She started, before cutting herself off. “C’mon, I want to introduce you to my— my friends.” Ciri loosely reached out to grasp his hand, and tugged him through the crowd. She led him to one of the booths against the wall, where two people were sitting; a man and a woman, who were both intimidatingly good-looking.

“That’s Geralt,” Ciri began, using her free hand to gesture to the man. “And Yennefer.” The woman. “This is Jaskier,” She said to them, “my friend from school, that I told you about.”

Geralt grunted in acknowledgement, while Yennefer gave Jaskier a once over as her lips curled into a sly smile. “Nice to meet you.” Yennefer said, though she seemed distracted. “I’m going to go mingle,” Speaking to Geralt, who had a proprietary arm draped over her shoulder. She pressed a kiss to his cheek as she easily slipped away from him. Geralt’s eyes tracked her movements as she disappeared into the crowd, before switching to look at Jaskier. His nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath.

Uncomfortable from the intent gaze fixed on him, Jaskier glanced over to Ciri. “Drinks?” He suggested, voice weak. Feeling very out of his depth, he reclaimed his hand from her grasp. Cii nodded, exchanging a look with Geralt, before following Jaskier to the bar.

“So...” Jaskier started, before trailing off, unsure how to continue. The night thus far had been very strange, from having to justify his presence to the doorman, to the way he still felt the weight of Geralt’s eyes on his back. “Your friends seem... nice?” His voice lilted into a question at the end, because frankly, they were rather intimidating.

“They... take some getting used to.” Ciri reluctantly admitted. “But they... They’ve been good to me.” Her expression softened.

Jaskier felt a lump rise in his throat, as he remembered when he first met Ciri; her parents had died when she was young, and she’d been taken in by her grandparents, only to lose them as well. Still a minor, Ciri had to move in with a friend of her grandmother; Well-intentioned as the woman was, she hadn’t been family, or anything even close to it. 

For the time they’d known each other, over almost four years of school, Jaskier had felt closer to Ciri than with any of his siblings. He had thought of her like a sister, though the way that she’d disappeared told him that he’d clearly overestimated how important he was to her.

Snapping back to the present, Jaskier swallowed, cleared his throat. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.” He meant it, though there was a part of him that wondered what he was even doing here, when she’d apparently been fine without him.

Ciri, who had been looking back at Geralt, snapped her gaze back to him. “You know, I think Geralt likes you.” She abruptly suggested, changing the subject.

Taken aback, Jaskier found himself looking over at the man. “You’d know him better than I, I supposed. But aren’t him and Yennefer...?” They seemed like a couple, from their body language.

Dismissively, Ciri shrugged. “They’re on-again-off-again. But I think they’re off, right now.” She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Jaskier snorted and shook his head. “As terribly tempting as that is, I will abstain, thanks. I’d rather not get involved.” He could’ve sworn, watching from the corner of his eye, that Geralt seemed to slump slightly at that. Which was ridiculous, because there was no way that the other man would’ve been able to hear them over the music and the distance.

Meanwhile, Ciri blinked at him, surprised. Jaskier frowned at her briefly, wondering why, before it clicked. Back when they had last known each other, he would have gone after Geralt, maybe-girlfriend or not. He cleared his throat and looked away, as an awkward silence fell between them.

“Jaskier, I—” Ciri started, but whatever she was going to say got cut off when the bartender finally took notice of them, and asked for their order. When he went to get their drinks, there was another uncomfortable pause.

“You were saying...?” Jaskier tried, though Ciri seemed distracted. She kept glancing over her shoulder, to down the bar. Tilting his head, Jaskier followed her gaze; there was a woman, who looked to be around Ciri’s age, and who also seemed to be sneaking glances back at Ciri.

There was a complicated knot of emotions in the pit of Jaskier’s stomach, which he didn’t have the time or wherewithal to fully untangle. Instead, he breathed out, tried for a smile, and gently nudged Ciri. “Go get her, then.”

She jumped slightly, guilt flashing across her face. “I wasn’t...” Ciri began, but stopped when Jaskier gave her a knowing, slightly chastising look. “Not tonight.” She said, instead, even as her eyes flicked back again to the woman who’d caught her attention.

The bartender reappeared with their drinks, and they paid. Jaskier grabbed his and the one for Geralt, before Ciri could. “You’re clearly useless right now,” He aimed for a teasing tone, pretending like it was a night from five years ago. “Go on, we can catch up later.”

Another moment of token hesitation, before Ciri grinned brilliantly. “Thanks.” She moved in close and quickly kissed Jaskier on the cheek, before grabbing her drink and, putting extra sway in the movement of her hips, made her way down the bar.

Jaskier lingered for a moment, watching as Ciri smiled warmly and leaned into the woman’s space. Then he glanced down at the other drink in his hand, and realized he’d just volunteered to go back and drink with a handsome brooding stranger. Jaskier sighed, braced himself, and went back to the booth.

“We lost another member of the party,” Jaskier announced, sliding the drink across the table. Geralt shot his hand out and caught it, before it could tip over. He raised one of his rather impressive eyebrows at Jaskier, in a silent question.

“Ciri has abandoned us in pursuit of the fairer sex. Or gender, I suppose.” Taking a sip from his drink, Jaskier considered his next move. The booth was U shaped, and Geralt had himself positioned in the exact center, his back against the wall. With a mental shrug, Jaskier slid into the left side. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed, when Geralt shifted further to the left, so they were directly facing one another.

In lieu of a reply, Geralt stared steadily at Jaskier.

For a moment, Jaskier held his gaze, before having to look away. He took another sip of his drink as he cast about for something to say. “So... Ciri! How did you meet her?”

“...It’s a long story.” Geralt replied, loosely looping his hand around the pint glass.

There was a long pause, as Jaskier waited for Geralt to elaborate. When he didn’t, Jaskier couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter. “A man of little words, aren’t you.” He teased. Geralt silently shrugged. “...Right.” Jaskier pulled out his phone and checked the time, biting back a sigh when he saw it was only half past eleven. Probably too early to bail.

It was warm in the bar, from a combination of the lights overhead and the swell of bodies filling the space. Jaskier shrugged off his light jacket, and didn’t miss how Geralt’s eyes flicked to the tattoo that crawled along the outside of his left arm. He smiled slightly, taking another sip of his drink, and purposely didn’t say anything; Just let the silence hang in the air between them.

“...Ciri said you met at school?” Geralt finally spoke, just as Jaskier was about to pull out his phone again, to check how long it had been since either of them said anything.

“Yes! First year, during our undergrad.” Jaskier clarified. “I’m still in school,” He felt the need to tack on, with a self deprecating smile. When Geralt raised an eyebrow in question, Jaskier continued. “I’m getting my PhD in English Studies; my area of specialty is ballads as a vehicle for storytelling in Elizabethan times.” Knowing from experience that most people didn’t know how to respond to that, he finished with, “I considered focusing instead on Tolkien’s use of songs in his writing, but, well, that rather seemed like a path well-tread at this point.”

“...Your tattoo, that’s a Tolkien quote, isn’t it?” Geralt said, eyes going to Jaskier’s arm again, before focusing back on his face.

“Yep, well-spotted.” Jaskier nodded. “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us,” He recited from memory. “Only slightly less popular of a quote than ‘not all who wander are lost.’ I saw someone comparing that one to ‘live, laugh, love’ for the nerdy sort and I was never able to look at it the same way again.” 

In response, Geralt pushed up the sleeve of his shirt on his left arm, and turned it to display the tattoo there; all in black ink, a line of script running up an ornate street light. “May it be a light to you in dark places when all other lights go out.” He said, voicing what the script said.

There was a funny squirming feeling in Jaskier’s stomach, because, while Geralt represented too much of a complication to get involved with – a wonderful tattoo, a Tolkien quote at that, on a beautiful man? It was too many of his boxes ticked at once for him to remain unaffected. He cleared his throat, hoping Geralt wouldn’t notice the flush running up his neck. “That’s a good one too.” Jaskier managed to agree, his voice only slightly choked.

“I hate to interrupt,” And suddenly Yennefer was in front of the booth, when had she gotten there? Amusement sparkled in her eyes as she gave Geralt a knowing look. “But I wanted to let you know not to wait up for me.” Lingering just behind her was a woman with warm brown skin and a shock of natural curly red hair.

Geralt nodded stiffly in acknowledgement. Yennefer blew him a kiss, winked at Jaskier, before she turned and left.

Biting back a sigh, Jaskier took another sip of his drink. In a way, he was grateful for the interruption; it was another reminder that Geralt was spoken for, more or less. Besides, he thought morosely to himself, just because Ciri was somehow friends with Geralt, didn’t mean that Jaskier would ever see him again.

“Well, I should—” Jaskier started, pulling out his phone and searching for an excuse for why he had to leave.

“Geralt!” Now Ciri had reappeared, cheeks flushed and smiling widely. “I’m going to head back to the apartment, okay?” She had her arms linked with a brunette who was smiling mischievously.

“And you want me to be elsewhere.” Geralt sighed, though there was a fondness to the reluctant curve of his smile. He fished some keys out of his pocket and tossed them over, Ciri easily catching them with one hand. “Drive safe.”

“I will.” Ciri promised. Her gaze fell onto Jaskier, and she blinked, surprised. Apparently she’d forgotten about her friend. “Jaskier—”

He was already waving her off. “We’ll get caught up another time.” Jaskier smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Picking up on it, Ciri bit her lip, looking conflicted. The woman she was with leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. Ciri turned to look at her, seeming utterly besotted, before shooting Jaskier a guilty glance. “Okay. I’ll text you.” She promised. 

Jaskier nodded, though now he was distracted by the earlier exchange between Ciri and Geralt. “You know,” His mouth started saying to Geralt without his brain’s permission. “If you need somewhere to spend the night, you could always come home with me.”

At the same time, looking unnervingly like one another, both Geralt and Ciri turned to look at Jaskier.

Realizing how it sounded, Jaskier scrambled to course correct. “Not— That wasn’t a proposition!” He hurriedly said, too flustered to notice the disappointment that passed over Geralt’s face upon hearing that. “I just have a terribly comfortable couch, and, well, if Ciri needs privacy—”

“What a generous offer,” Ciri was grinning widely, far too amused. “You should take him up on it. We’ll leave you to it.” Giggling, her and her companion left.

Staring down into his drink, Jaskier contemplated trying to drown himself in it. The sound of Geralt clearing his throat made him look up.

“...You don’t have to.” Geralt begrudgingly said.

“You don’t have to either,” Jaskier quickly assured him. “You hardly know me, and well, I have a cat and I never thought to ask if you were allergic or not, and...” He trailed off, thrown by how Geralt was watching him. “...What?”

“I’m not allergic.” Geralt stated, though from his gaze, it seemed like he was trying to say something else.

“...Okay.” Downing the rest of his drink in one go, Jaskier stood. Reading between the lines, he thought he knew what Geralt was getting at. Hopefully. “Shall we, then?”

***

The transit trip back to the apartment passed in a blur of surprisingly comfortable silence. Before Jaskier knew it, he was unlocking his apartment door and stepping inside. Meowing loudly, Luna ran up to greet her owner, twinning around Jaskier’s legs.

“Hello love,” Jaskier smiled down at his cat, and then blinked when she gave Geralt the same treatment. He was further thrown when Geralt scooped up the cat and held her in his broad arms, where the cat comfortably lounged, purring noisily. Jaskier stared at them long enough for Geralt to notice.

“What?” He asked, looking far too grave for someone who was holding a blissed out cat.

“She...” Jaskier blinked several times. “It took her _months_ to warm up to my ex, and even then, she barely tolerated him.”

Geralt gave a small shrug. “Animals tend to like me.”

“Apparently.” Realizing they were just standing in the entryway, Jaskier gathered himself. “Right, shoes off. Living room is just through here... Sorry about the mess, I didn’t think anyone would be coming home with me tonight, so I didn’t bother to tidy up. I swear it usually isn’t this messy.” He kept up the self conscious rambling as he went to the closet and dug out several sheets and pillows. “I’ll shut Luna in my room with me, so she won’t bother you.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Geralt interrupted, settling on the armchair and moving Luna into his lap. There she sprawled out, eyes sliding shut as Geralt ran one of his large hands over her back.

“Okay.” Jaskier said blankly, getting lost for a moment at how broad Geralt’s fingers were. As soon as it sunk in that he was staring, Jaskier made himself look away and went back to making up the couch. “These blankets are pretty thick, and there’s a bunch there, but if you get cold, there are more in the closet.”

Finished with the couch, Jaskier rocked back on his heels. “And if you get hungry or thirsty,” He gestured towards the kitchen. “There’s not much there, but the bread is fresh if you want toast or something and—”

“Jaskier.” Geralt spoke up, smiling ever so slightly. “I’ll be fine. Go to bed.”

“Yes, I’ll... just go do that.” Jaskier forced himself not to stare at the lovely man who his cat apparently adored, and moved to his bedroom. Shutting the door behind himself, he let his head thump back against the wood and closed his eyes, breathing out through his nose. Jaskier allowed himself a moment to wallow in regret, that Geralt was out there instead of in his room with him, before forcing himself back into motion.

After going through his bedtime routine, Jaskier backtracked through his apartment, turning off the lights. He lingered for a moment in the doorway of his living room, struck by how the lamplight caught Geralt’s amber eyes. “Goodnight,” Jaskier blurted out, a moment too late.

“Goodnight,” Geralt answered, from where he was still on the armchair, glancing up from his phone.

Their gazes held, before Jaskier made himself look away, nodding vaguely before retreating back to his bedroom. And if he spent a moment, burying his face in his pillow, feeling lonely and single and pathetic, well, that was no one’s business but his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!! Oh my god, y'all, the response to the first chapter was _amazing_. Thank you all, for every hit, kudos, bookmark, and comment!! (though I'll tell you a secret; the comments people are my favourite ;D)
> 
> Special thanks to my friend Kim for looking over this chapter for me! If there's a typo or something we missed, plz let me know!

The next morning, Jaskier woke up to the smell of waffles, and someone knocking at his bedroom door. With a long groan of protest, he checked the time on his phone. It was only eight o’clock. “Why.” Jaskier lamented as he dropped his face into his pillows.

“Jaskier?” It took a moment to filter into his sleep deprived mind that the unfamiliar voice belonged to Geralt. “I think your cat wants to be fed.”

First, Jaskier counted to ten in his head, regrettably bidding sleep goodbye. Then he dragged himself out of bed, picking up a t-shirt off the floor and pulling it on as he made his way over to the door. “I’m up,” Jaskier said with a yawn as he opened the door, just before Geralt was about to knock on it again.

Hanging from one of Geralt’s arms, back legs dangling loosely, was Luna. She stared piteously up at her owner, meowing loudly. Jaskier squinted balefully up at her, before his gaze switched to Geralt. “Why.” He repeated, as a general plea to the universe.

The corner of Geralt’s mouth twitched, just shy of a smile, before his expression flattened out. “Breakfast is almost ready.” He replied, taking in Jaskier’s bedhead and the pillow-lines on his cheek, before Geralt turned on his heel and brought Luna back into the kitchen.

Jaskier blinked after him, before rubbing a hand over his face. Backtracking into his bedroom, he grabbed his phone. There was a text from Ciri waiting for him on the lock-screen.

 **Ciri:** Sorry for bailing on you last night. Can we meet for coffee today?

He’d almost forgotten, distracted by Geralt’s... everything, that last night was supposed to be a reunion of sorts with Ciri. For a long moment, Jaskier considered being petty and leaving her on ‘read’. Instead, he swiped to open the message and replied.

 **Jaskier:** I can’t do this morning. But if you want to meet in the afternoon, around 3, sure.

Not waiting for her reply, he wandered into the bathroom and took care of things. By the time Jaskier went into the kitchen, there was a new message from Ciri.

 **Ciri:** That works! You okay to meet here?

She sent a screenshot of the cafe’s info, including it’s address.

 **Jaskier:** Yeah. See you then.

He locked his phone, and looked up, to see Geralt pulling out plates from the cupboard. “You actually made waffles.” Jaskier blinked. Part of him had thought that the smell had been some kind of hallucination or something.

“You let me sleep on your couch,” Geralt replied with a shrug, as if that was somehow an answer.

“...Right.” Setting his phone down on the table, Jaskier went to go feed Luna. He had finished doing so by the time that Gerald was done setting out the plates. “Thanks,” Jaskier belatedly said, as he sat down and Geralt served him a waffle.

“It’s fine.” Geralt stiffly replied, as he went to pour more batter in the waffle iron.

At a loss for words, for once, Jaskier concentrated on eating. Five minutes later, he was halfway through when Geralt sat down across from him with his own plate of food. “Oh!” Jaskier perked up as he remembered. “Do you want coffee?”

There was a grunt from Geralt as Jaskier grabbed the kettle and filled it up with water. “I’ve only got the instant kind, unfortunately... Was that a yes, or...?” He couldn’t help the amused smile that came across his face.

With a beleaguered sigh, Geralt gave a slow and exaggerated nod,

“Just checking.” Jaskier smirked as he got out mugs and the coffee. “I’ll let you make yours how you want,” He said over his shoulder as he measured out the crystals and sugar for his own. As Jaskier went to put the container of coffee down, Geralt came and stood beside him, gently taking it from his hand.

It was oddly domestic; warm sunlight spilling through the window, the smell of waffles and syrup in the air, the kettle bubbling quietly as the water boiled. Swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat, Jaskier had to remind himself that he wasn’t anything to Geralt; a friend of a friend, at the most, no matter how comfortable the moment was.

As if sensing the shift in Jaskier’s mood, Geralt glanced sideways at him. His shoulder brushed against Jaskier’s, a movement that might have been reassurance, or a simple accident.

Coffee made, they sat back down at the table. With a soft ‘mrrr’, Luna launched herself through the air and landed in Geralt’s lap. There, she curled up and began purring loudly. Paused in the middle of lifting a piece of waffle into his mouth, Jaskier stared at her, before setting his fork down with a clink. “Okay, have you been feeding her treats while I wasn’t looking, or something? My ex used to say—” He cut himself off, biting down hard on his lip.

“Said what?” Geralt asked, as both him and Luna stared at Jaskier, unblinking.

“Never mind,” Jaskier quickly replied, using a hand to wave the subject away. “Doesn’t matter. Unimportant. Ex? Who said anything about an ex?” Shoving more food in his mouth, he cast about for a change in subject. “Ciri’s awake already. I’m surprised, since she went home with someone last night.”

“Does that bother you?” Taking a sip of coffee, Geralt kept his gaze trained on Jaskier.

Briefly, Jaskier met his eyes, before he had to look away. “Her being awake? It’s no business of mine.” Jaskier deflected with a shrug. Something from last night registered. “She lives with you, then? Since she requested the apartment to herself...”

Geralt nodded. “And Yennefer too. It’s a three-bedroom.”

Jaskier raised his eyebrows, taking note of the fact that Geralt was implying that he and Yennefer didn’t share a bedroom. “...Huh. Doesn’t Ciri have her own keys?” He remembered how Geralt had passed some to her.

“She does. Those were for my Harley, since she rode over with Yen on her bike.” Geralt drank more coffee, watching at the expressions playing out across Jaskier’s face; first, surprise, that Ciri of all people apparently rode motorcycles now. Then, after his eyes flickered over to Geralt, came the mental image of Geralt straddling a bike, his broad thighs spread against the leather...

There was a long pause, before Jaskier realized he probably shouldn’t be having inappropriate thoughts about the other man, while sitting _right across from him_. He had to clear his throat before being able to speak. “Interesting.” His voice was only slightly strangled.

In lieu of a reply, Geralt smirked, almost as if he knew what Jaskier had been thinking about. His hand stilled on Luna’s back; making a noise of protest, she jumped out of Geralt’s lap and wandered back into the living room.

“Waffles!” Jaskier blurted out, breaking the silence. “These are just delicious.” As if to provide proof of his statement, he shoved more into his mouth. Jaskier could’ve sworn that Geralt seemed amused with him, though his mouth went into a flat line as he pulled a ringing phone from his pocket.

“Yennefer,” Geralt said in explanation, standing and walking away from the table into the living room. As he answered the call, Geralt began saying “Yen—”, only to be cut off by whatever she was saying on the other end. 

Despite straining his ears, Jaskier couldn’t pick out Yennefer’s words; all he could hear was the vague noises Geralt was making in reply. A few minutes later, Geralt came back into the kitchen, scowling at the floor.

“I have to go.” He announced. “Thank you, again, for letting me stay over.”

“Oh, sure.” There was a disappointed, sinking feeling in Jaskier’s stomach. Maybe the call meant Geralt was back ‘on’ with Yennefer. It probably was just wistful thinking on Jaskier’s part that Geralt seemed reluctant to leave. “See you around, I guess?”

Geralt’s gaze flicked up to Jaskier’s face, and he gave a nod, looking determined. “Yes.” He made it almost seem like a declaration. “...Goodbye.” With that, Geralt turned and left, closing the apartment door behind him.

After the other man left, the apartment somehow felt emptier than it had moments ago. Jaskier grimaced, forcing himself to finish breakfast. Waste not, want not.

***

First cleaning up the mess from breakfast, Jaskier then reluctantly pushed everything buzzing around his mind to the side, and sat down to do some work. It was a relief, actually, to fall back into the familiar brain-space of academia. The rest of the morning passed, with a quick break for lunch in the afternoon.

Around two o’clock, Jaskier surfaced when he went to get more coffee. He remembered that he was supposed to meet Ciri, and that meant he should probably get changed out of his pajamas. Once dressed, he looked up directions to the cafe, before goofing off on YouTube for a bit.

When it was time to leave, Jaskier got his things together. “Wish me luck,” He said to Luna, who blinked sleepily at him, before her eyes slid shut. 

The cafe was easy to find, sitting on the corner at an interaction. Ciri was waiting outside as Jaskier approached. When he got near, she looked up, smiling upon spotting him. As Jaskier came to a stop in front of her, Ciri went to hug him. “Jaskier, hi!” 

He skittered back, out of her reach, quietly returning her greeting. Ciri’s smile wilted, though she quickly recovered. “Should we head in?” She asked, gesturing to the door with her head. Jaskier nodded, and they went inside.

Uncomfortable silence settled between them as they ordered and waited for their drinks. Once those were procured, they settled in a seat by the window. Ciri was the first to speak, clearing her throat. “I owe you an explanation.” She admitted.

“At this point, I’d say you owe me several.” Jaskier replied, tone mild. The shot landed though; Ciri winced and looked away, chastised, and nodding slowly.

With a long sigh, Ciri ran a hand through her hair. “I wish I could tell you why I dropped out. But I can’t, not now. I’m sorry.” 

Not expecting that, Jaskier raised his eyebrows, a confused frown on his face. “What does that even mean?” When she bit her lip and remained silent, he rolled his eyes. “Okay, putting that aside then – what about last night?”

A dreamy expression settled on Ciri’s face. “The woman I met last night – Renfri – she’s _amazing_. I can’t even...” She trailed off and let out a short, frustrated sigh. “I can’t explain it, and I know it was shitty of me to leave like that, but... When I saw her, I just had to talk to her. I didn’t want to miss out on that chance. I _really_ like her, Jas.”

And, damn it, Jaskier was weak, because the way Ciri was smiling, combined with the use of his old nickname... He felt something in him gently unfurl, and he had to smile back. “That’s great. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks.” Ciri’s smile took a mischievous slant. “Did anything happen between you and Geralt? He sm— seemed really happy when he got home this morning.”

Confused by the slip, Jaskier frowned and then shrugged. “No, nothing happened. Besides, he had to leave in a hurry. Yennefer needed him.” Which on it’s own spoke volumes, really. There was no reason to be jealous, but...

“Yen... also met someone last night.” Ciri seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “Yen isn’t the best with people, not when they really matter to her. When she needed Geralt this morning, it wasn’t a couple thing, it was... something else.”

Without context, Jaskier was just even more lost, turning the words over in his mind. “I don’t know what that means.” He finally admitted.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s hard to explain.” Ciri sighed, grimacing and looking away, before changing the subject. “Enough about me and mine; What have you been up to?”

Mentally taking note of that casual possessiveness, Jaskier went off into a rambling description of the past four years of academic nonsense that he’d been working through. When he wound down, he said, “What about you? What have you been doing? Or,” His expression shuttered slightly. “Is that more ‘need to know only’ information.”

“It’s not.” Ciri quickly assured him. “Geralt is a leather worker, and I’m his apprentice. I’m also the one who runs our online storefront, and who helps Yen with her online store.”

Taken aback, Jaskier blinked. “That’s... not what I was expecting.” He admitted. “What do you do, exactly?”

“Geralt makes gaming accessories like dice bags and trays, those are popular at cons. Also purses and stuff like that. I focus more on jewelry; chokers, bracelets, cuffs...” Ciri trailed off and cleared her throat, apparently self conscious. “It’s not something I ever saw myself doing, but... Geralt’s a good teacher.”

“Huh. That’s... Good for you.” Jaskier was sincere, happy that Ciri seemed to have found some direction to her life. He’d been worried, with her dropping out, that she’d lost the plot a bit. Not that he was one to talk, eternal student that he was.

A long silence fell, both at a loss for what to say. Finally, Ciri spoke up, voice so soft it was almost inaudible. “I missed you.” She was giving Jaskier a forlorn look, puppy dog eyes in full effect.

“I’ve missed you too.” Jaskier admitted, stopping himself from adding any kind of qualifier, or from pressing, again, for answers.

“How much groveling am I going to have to do to make up for everything?” Ciri was half-joking, with a sort-of smile on her face. It dimmed when Jaskier just shrugged.

“It’ll take time.” was his simple, honest reply.

Ciri nodded reluctantly.

Jaskier took advantage of the lull to finish his drink. “Well!” He tried to inject as much false cheer into his voice as possible as he stood. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but, well, it’s getting late and my cat will be expecting her supper and...” Jaskier had officially had his fill of emotionally fraught conversation for the day.

“Oh, sure, of course.” Ciri agreed, following Jaskier to the rack for used mugs and saucers. They put their dishes away, and then left the cafe. “Keep in touch?” Ciri tentatively asked, putting her hands in her jean pockets and rocking back on her heels.

Because he wasn’t an entirely perfect person, Jaskier couldn’t help but give Ciri a sardonic look; which silently conveyed he wasn’t the one who disappeared – twice. Reading his intent, she nodded, looking guilty. Jaskier felt a pang of regret and bit back an apology. They exchanged subdued ‘goodbyes’ and went their separate ways.

***

A few days passed. Ciri managed to consistently text with Jaskier, and he was very slowly warming to her again. On a Friday afternoon, Jaskier was leaving a lecture hall when he noticed a group of undergrads glancing at someone, giggling. He followed their gaze; it was Geralt, leaning against a nearby stone wall, dressed in all black and looking like a model. At his feet sat a brown and white pit-bull, wearing a vest that marked them as a service animal.

Geralt’s gaze found Jaskier. Trying to stamp down the excited flutter of hope in the pit of his stomach, Jaskier slowly walked over. “Hi?” He began, glancing down at the dog. “And who’s this?”

“Her name is Roach.” Geralt replied, one of his large hands coming to rest on the dog’s head.

“Roach?” Jaskier echoed, eyebrows raising. “What kind of a name is that?”

“It’s her name.” Geralt shrugged. When Jaskier continued to give him a disbelieving look, he elaborated; “Her original owner named her that, then the shelter staff kept using it. It stuck. She’s resilient. It suits her.”

“...That makes slightly more sense.” Jaskier allowed. “So... What brings you to campus?”

“You.” Geralt smirked slightly at the surprised look Jaskier gave him

“...That’s...” Hoping the blush crawling up his neck wasn’t too visible, Jaskier cleared his throat. “Flattering. And also kind of creepy?” His voice went slightly high pitched. “How did you even find me?”

“I tracked you.” Geralt deadpanned, looking serious; he managed to keep the expression up for a moment, until a twitch of his lip showed he was fucking with Jaskier. “You told Ciri you went here, and texted her before the lecture started.”

Jaskier relaxed, letting out a relieved chuckle. “Oh, good. For a second, I was starting to feel like the heroine in a YA novel... Don’t give me that look, those types of books are unfairly stigmatized due to gender bias.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come here to discuss your terrible taste in literature.”

“Ah, that’s a shame, I enjoy a rousing debate on the merits of the genre. Why are you here then?” Jaskier asked, getting briefly distracted when a group of his students walked by, giving him and his companion curious looks.

“I...” Geralt’s hesitation caught Jaskier’s attention. Roach pressed closer against her owner’s legs, as if sensing his distress. “I want to buy you a coffee.” Geralt admitted.

“I have to teach a seminar in...” Jaskier checked the time on his phone. “Fifty-five minutes.” He watched as Geralt deflated slightly, clearly disappointed. “But,” Jaskier continued. “There’s a cafe over in that building. Their coffee isn't anything special, but their baked goods are amazing.”

“That works.” Geralt straightened up, no longer leaning against the wall. He adjusted his hold on Roach’s leash, and the three of them went over into one of the other buildings.

The cafe was about half-full, mostly with students. Geralt insisted on paying for Jaskier’s coffee, along with a chocolate chip cookie that was the size of the small plate it was served on. They collected their food and drink, moving to an empty table. Roach settled, laying down underneath Geralt’s chair.

Soft indie music played over the speakers as Jaskier took a sip of his drink. “So...” He began, when Geralt seemed content to simply stare at him. “What brought this on? You coming here to have coffee with me, I mean.”

“I wanted to see you.” Geralt simply said, wrapping a hand around the paper cup that held his coffee.

“Careful,” Jaskier said, voice light, as his free hand tapped out a nervous staccato on the tabletop. “You could give a guy ideas, with talk like that.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing.” With a shrug, Geralt took a sip of coffee, watching as Jaskier froze before swallowing heavily.

Visibly taking a moment to brace himself, Jaskier steadily met Geralt’s gaze, expression unusually determined. “I know you and Yennefer have a... complicated relationship. And I respect that. But I’m also not going to get involved in it.”

Geralt frowned, eyes lowering to stare down at the table. “Yen... has found someone else. It’s serious. We’re not getting back together this time.”

“So I’m a rebound, then.” Jaskier let out a short, disappointed sigh. “Or the back-up plan?”

“No!” Geralt snapped, voice moderately raised. Roach let out a whine, looking up at her owner. He dropped a hand onto her head and rubbed at one of her ears, before continuing. “No,” His voice was softer, but no less intent. “You’re not... I want you.”

Jaskier couldn’t help his pleased smile, feeling something warm in his stomach. Then his smile shrank as he looked away. “You don’t even know me.”

Tentatively, Geralt reached out, and used his one hand to nudge against Jaskier’s other hand, the one that was resting on the table. He waited until Jaskier to looked back over to speak. “Enough to want to know more.”

Thinking it over, Jaskier studied Geralt’s face, before slowly nodding. “Okay.” He said faintly, and then again with more conviction. “Okay.”

“Good.” Geralt’s voice was low and his eyes intent as he took in Jaskier. Then he appeared to be distracted by something. Drawing back his hand, Geralt reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He glanced at the screen and grunted, before tucking it back away. “Ciri checking in.”

That reminded Jaskier... “Ciri says she’s your apprentice? That you do leather working together?” Geralt nodded. “Then... Do you know why she dropped out?”

Something closed off in Geralt’s expression, his mouth flattening into a grimace. “Yes. But,” He held up a hand to forestall Jaskier’s protests. “That’s for her to tell you.”

Jaskier let out a long sigh, but reluctantly nodded. “Worth a shot.” He tried for a false bravado; judging by Geralt’s frown, he didn’t quite pull it off.

“She always talks about you.” Geralt told him, causing Jaskier to blink in surprise. “For four years, I’ve heard her talk about everything that you two used to do.”

“...Huh.” Jaskier looked away, smiling wistfully. Something occurred to him. “Please tell me that she didn’t tell you about the goat incident.”

Geralt’s eyebrows shot up. “..No?”

“Oh, good.” His relief was short lived when he saw that Geralt was looking at him expectantly. “Oh, no, no no no, I’m not saying anything more about it. You’ll just have to live in suspense.” Jaskier quickly said, shaking his head.

“I’ll ask Ciri then.” Geralt shrugged.

“Good luck with that.” Jaskier couldn’t help the snort he let out. He cast about for a change in subject, something to distract Geralt with. His eyes landed at the dog lying beneath Geralt’s chair. “What kind of service dog is she?” Jaskier asked, nodding towards Roach.

“She...” Geralt looked uncomfortable. “Her classification is psychiatric. For... when I go out in public.”

Tilting his head slightly, Jaskier gave Geralt a considering look. “You didn’t have her last Saturday, at the bar.” He had to ask.

“But I had Yennefer and Ciri. I would’ve needed a distraction once I was alone.” Geralt grimaced, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “It’s... difficult to explain.” Roach sat up to lean against him, and Geralt looked fondly down at the dog.

“Now you’re starting to sound like Ciri.” Jaskier ruefully noted, though he had to smile at the adoring look exchange between dog and owner. “One day I’ll get answers out of you both.” He teased.

“I know.” As Geralt glanced at him, the light caught his eyes, making the amber in them almost glow. Something about his expression... It was as if he took Jaskier’s words as a promise.

For a long moment, Jaskier was pinned under that gaze. When Geralt finally looked away, it was both a relief and a disappointment. “I also want an opportunity to be able to properly tell Roach what a good girl she is!” Jaskier looked wistfully at the dog, knowing he couldn’t interact with her while she had her vest on. “She’s beautiful.”

“...Thanks?” Geralt genuinely didn’t seem to be sure how to accept the compliment on Roach’s behalf.

Rolling his eyes with a smile, Jaskier checked his own phone. The almost-hour was almost up. With a reluctant sigh, he finished the rest of his drink. “I have to go.” Jaskier admitted, standing. He considered the untouched cookie, before giving a mental shrug. After wrapping it up in a napkin, he shoved it into one of his bag’s pockets.

“Give me your number,” Geralt said, getting out his phone again. “So we can meet for another date.”

“This was a date?” Jaskier blinked, and bit back a sound at the wolfish grin Geralt gave in response. “...Right.” Voice still slightly faint, he recited his phone number. A moment later, a new text from Geralt, simply reading ‘Hi’, flashed onto the screen. “Okay...” Jaskier sent a quick ‘Hello’ back, before clearing his throat, as he tried valiantly to gather his scattered wits. “I’ll be seeing you around, then.”

“Bye.” Geralt rumbled, still watching Jaskier intently.

If asked, Jaskier would say he didn’t quite flee from the cafe... But it was close. Even with, or maybe especially because of, the confirmation of Geralt’s interest in him, Jaskier found his attention to be overwhelming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. as far as I can tell, the reasons why people need emotional support animals are incredibly varied. I'm kinda cheating with why Geralt needs one (this will be explained later!) so plz do not @ me for it, haha. Geralt with a service dog largely inspired by [this fanart](https://twitter.com/SvetozarNien/status/1258171063529287680?s=20), except I picture Roach in this AU looking like [Lilly Bug](https://www.instagram.com/theadventuresoflillythepitbull/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning!! Please note the new 'minor violence' and 'minor gore' tags. The aftermath of violence is described; it isn't anything worse than what's in the show, but, I figured I'd warn for it just in case. Additionally, Jaskier gets creeped on a bit. Sorry Jaskier.

Geralt, it turned out, was even more taciturn through text as he was in conversation. After they exchanged numbers, Jaskier didn’t hear from him again for three days. Finally, a message came through on Monday afternoon;

 **Geralt:** When are you free?

 **Jaskier:** Hello! It’s so good to hear from you. I’ve been fine, thanks, how about you?

There was a long pause, in which Jaskier was worried he’d said the wrong thing, gone a bit too far. But finally;

 **Geralt:** I've been busy

Squinting at the screen, Jaskier chewed his lip as he considered how to reply. Luckily, Geralt saved him from having to say anything by sending another text;

 **Geralt:** Dinner. When are you free?

There was a very loud part of Jaskier’s brain which assumed the silence from Geralt meant the other man hadn’t been serious about the proclamation he’d made. Then again, Jaskier had barely heard from Ciri either, except she hadn’t been feeling well that weekend.

Still, Jaskier wasn’t about to look a gift-horse in the mouth; If Geralt was still on-board, he wasn’t about to turn him down. It took a moment for Jaskier to mentally review his schedule and figure out when would be good to meet. Butterflies in his stomach, he sent;

 **Jaskier:** Thursday or Friday evening works for me!

 **Geralt:** Thursday then

 **Jaskier:** Okay. Where are we going?

 **Geralt:** I’ll be there at 6.

Glad he was alone, Jaskier cocked his head and squinted at the phone. He was tempted to text Geralt a load of question marks but a little voice in his head whispered, _if you’re too annoying, he’ll get sick of you before things even start_. So he didn’t. With a sigh, Jaskier dropped his phone and went to distract himself.

***

Thursday night went... surprisingly okay. Jaskier chose to dress in the happy medium between casual and fancy (nice jeans, nice-ish shirt), since he had no idea where they were going. Geralt had shown up at six on the dot, riding his Harley.

The trip to the restaurant was only mildly terrifying, though it was hard to complain when it gave him an excuse to plaster himself against Geralt’s back. They ended up at a mid-range Italian restaurant with incredibly good food.

Conversation during dinner was slightly uncomfortable. Jaskier had a feeling he’d talked too much (in fact, he’d gone off on a ramble about fanfic he’d read of both Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, for the entire length of their meal), but it was hard to tell because Geralt spoke so little. 

He didn’t seem to mind listening to Jaskier, though Jaskier knew from bitter experience that there was a very thin line between being indulged, and being barely tolerated. With Geralt’s lack of an expression, it was impossible to discern which side of the line he was on.

There was a goodnight kiss, at least, when Geralt walked Jaskier to the door of his apartment complex. It was brief and chaste, the brush of lips over his, but that was enough to make a shiver run down Jaskier’s spine.

Needless to say, by the time Jaskier was alone again in his apartment, his nerves were thoroughly frayed. With a long groan, he collapsed onto the couch, burrowing his face into the pillow there. He stayed like that for a long moment, trying to figure out if he’d made an ass of himself or not. In the end Jaskier decided that it depended on Geralt; whether the other man bothered to follow up on it, or not.

***

Five very long days passed until Jaskier heard from Geralt again. In the interim, Ciri had been fairly chatty. Somehow, Jaskier managed to restrain himself from asking her about Geralt. He didn’t want to put her in the middle of things.

And, of course it being Geralt, when the text did come, it was short and to the point;

 **Geralt:** Come over tonight?

That... wasn’t what Jaskier was expecting.

 **Jaskier:** To your apartment?

 **Geralt:** Yes

 **Jaskier:** For...?

 **Geralt:** Food, movies. With Yen and Ciri

Conflicted, Jaskier frowned down on his phone. On one hand, it would be nice to see Ciri in-person; they hadn’t met up since that awkward encounter at the cafe. On the other hand, Yennefer. That she was _still living with Geralt_ set off alarm bells in Jaskier’s head. Surely, if they had gotten back together, Ciri would’ve said something, right?

When another text came through, Jaskier nearly dropped his phone in surprise when he read it;

 **Geralt:** Please

Apparently the invitation meant _something_ to Geralt; though what that was, Jaskier had no idea. Hands shaky, he sent his reply;

 **Jaskier:** Okay.

***

Last minute, Jaskier realized that he didn’t know where the fuck he was going. Thankfully, one quick (and slightly frantic) call to Ciri later and he was armed with an address and directions.

The apartment was easy to find, located in a neighbourhood that was significantly nicer than the one Jaskier lived in. Ciri buzzed him in, and Jaskier tried to ignore the weight of stares on his back as he made his way to the elevator. A moment later Jaskier was in front of their apartment door. Steeling himself, he knocked.

Immediately the door whipped open to reveal a beaming Ciri, Roach pressed against her legs. “Jaskier! Come in.” Ciri moved to the side and Jaskier stepped inside. Taking off his shoes, he glanced around the apartment. A combination of the ceiling lamp overhead and warm-toned walls gave the place a cozy feeling.

When Geralt appeared, approaching from the kitchen, Jaskier felt the butterflies in his stomach do a little flip. He hoped his smile wasn’t too goofy but god, in the days since their last date, he’d forgotten how gorgeous Geralt was.

Glancing between them with a sly smile, Ciri slipped away, practically skipping past Geralt. A moment later she called Roach, who ran after her.

Not even sparing a glance at either, Geralt crowded into Jaskier’s personal space, silently looming. “Oh! Well, hello there.” Jaskier gave a shaky, nervous laugh as Geralt leaned in close, face practically pressed to the curve of Jaskier’s neck. “...Are you sniffing me?”

“...No.” And with that, Jaskier learned that Geralt was a terrible liar.

Jaskier opened his mouth; about to say what, he wasn’t sure, but the sound of someone clearing their throat made Geralt stiffen and take a step back. One of Jaskier’s hands twitched with the urge to pull him back in again.

“As _adorable_ as that little display was,” Yennefer drawled, sounding bored. “It’s about time for you and Ciri to go pick up dinner.” If looks could kill, the heat of Geralt’s glare would’ve incinerated Yennefer. As was, she rolled her eyes, unaffected.

“Ciri can stay here.” Geralt replied shortly.

“No, I think she should go with you.” Yennefer shot back. 

There was a tense moment of the two staring at each other, before Geralt bit back a sound that suspiciously sounded like a growl. “Fine. Ciri!” He barked in the direction that the girl had gone.

“Coming!” Ciri called back, appearing a moment later. She shot Jaskier an apologetic look, following after Geralt as he stalked out of the apartment. Had Ciri not been the last one out, Jaskier was sure that Geralt would’ve slammed the door behind him.

In the silence that descended with their departure, Jaskier realized that meant he was left alone with Yennefer. “Uh, so...” He started to say, gulping nervously as she sauntered up to him.

Grip firm, Yennefer grabbed his chin, turning his face this way and that. Her eyes were accessing as she took him in. She even seemed to lean in and take a deep breath, smelling him. Finally, she released him with a short sigh and took a step back. “Frankly, I don’t see the attraction; why you’ve got both Ciri and Geralt falling over themselves for you.”

His answering laugh was part nerves, part surprise. “Ah, pardon? I think you’re mistaken—” Jaskier tried, only to be cut off again.

“Oh please.” Yennefer rolled her eyes. “Lie to yourself if you want, but don’t lie to me. Ciri wants to be your best friend again, and Geralt... Well.” She smirked, showing a flash of teeth. “I’m sure Geralt has been obvious in his intentions.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same man?” Jaskier asked disbelievingly, eyebrows raising. “Because so far it’s been a lot of ringing silence, and I’m apparently not fluent in that like you are.”

Rather than the amusement he was expecting, Yennefer closed her eyes as if seeking strength, before glaring at Jaskier. “If you hurt either of them, I’ll rip your heart out. No one will ever find your body.”

The threat almost made Jaskier give an incredulous laugh, but there was something to the glint in her eyes as she said it, which loaned credence to her words. So instead he swallowed nervously and gave a jerky nod.

“I suppose that will have to do.” With an incredibly weary sigh, Yennefer turned and went further back into the apartment.

The temptation to simply cut his losses and leave was great. But that would’ve been the opposite of what he just promised. Besides, Jaskier reasoned with himself as he followed after Yennefer, it wasn’t like the evening could get any worse.

***

If either Ciri or Geralt noticed how Jaskier seemed subdued upon their return, neither commented. The pizza was decent at least, from the little that Jaskier picked at. The group ate it off paper plates as an animated movie played on the television (Ciri’s choice; it seemed both Yennefer and Geralt were as helpless as Jaskier was when it came to her puppy dog eyes).

Yennefer had claimed the armchair in the corner of the room, while Jaskier was squished between Ciri and Geralt on the couch. Despite their close proximity, Geralt remained subtly angled away. Ciri had no such issue as she curled up against Jaskier’s side, like she used to back when it was just the two of them in Jaskier’s phenomenally shitty student apartment. Jaskier wasn’t sure which was more uncomfortable; the over-familiarity, or the aloofness.

When the movie ended, Ciri leapt for the remote before anyone else could. As she browsed titles on the TV, Geralt abruptly stood. “Jaskier,” He said, jerking his head to the left before heading off in the direction he indicated.

Feeling Yennefer’s gaze on him, Jaskier stood and followed after. They went down the hall, and into Geralt’s room. It was oddly quiet and Jaskier frowned as he spotted foam on the wall. “Why is your room sound-proofed?”

“Do I make you nervous?” Geralt asked instead. At his sides, his hands restlessly flexed and unflexed.

“Sort of?” Jaskier answered honestly. When that made Geralt frown deeply, he hurried to clarify; “Have you _seen_ yourself? Gorgeous men _always_ make me nervous. Plus you haven’t exactly been the most forthcoming about...” Jaskier gestured vaguely between them. “I’d say you were giving me mixed signals, but that would require you to send _any_ kind of signal.”

Now Geralt seemed more irritated than worried. “I thought I was being clear. You’re the one who...” He looked pained. “If you’re just humouring me...”

“Wait, what?” Thoroughly confused, Jaskier frowned back at him. “What are you talking about? That should be my line. You act like sending a text longer than four words is physically painful for you.”

“You only reply to what I say.” Geralt returned through gritted teeth.

“Well, that’s because— I mean—” Jaskier’s voice was faint, even to his own ears. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.” He finally admitted. “I didn’t want to assume that you signed up for my _obnoxious_ _over-exuberance_.” The phrasing was something that echoed through his mind constantly, after the words were thrown at him over a year ago, during another argument with someone else.

Picking up on the tone, Geralt frowned. “Who said that?”

“No one, it doesn’t matter.” Jaskier quickly said. Unable to meet Geralt’s eyes, he looked away, unconsciously curling in on himself to try and seem smaller. From shadows shifting on the floor. Jaskier could tell as Geralt slowly approached him.

Geralt didn't touch him, though from how his hands hovered out for a moment, reaching for Jaskier, he clearly wanted to. In the end, Geralt pulled away. “I’m not...” It looked like the words were costing Geralt. “Good at any of this. I’ve been with Yennefer for so long that I don’t know how to start something new.”

“It isn’t like I’m any more practiced at it.” Jaskier admitted with a shrug, finally risking a glance up at Geralt. “If I somehow gave you an impression to the contrary, please let me know what it was, so I can avoid ever doing so again in the future.”

“It wasn’t anything.” Geralt shook his head. “I just assumed.”

“Well. You know what they say about assumptions.” Jaskier replied wryly, with Geralt tipping his head to indicate that Jaskier had a point.

“What can I do?” Geralt’s gaze was steady as Jaskier blinked at him in surprise. “I’ve clearly been giving you the wrong impression, that I wasn’t interested.”

“As a rule, conversations usually work when there’s two active participants.” Jaskier quipped, “And having one’s paramour apparently afraid to share a couch isn’t exactly the most heartening thing.”

“You seemed uncomfortable.” Geralt muttered, defensively.

“Only because—” Jaskier began before shutting his mouth with an audible click. No. He wasn’t going to throw Yennefer under the bus. Sure he didn't like her and he knew that she didn’t like him. But he could understand where she was coming from and admired her loyalty.

Utterly focused on Jaskier, Geralt’s eyes narrowed slightly, as he clearly began trying to pinpoint what could’ve happened between him leaving for the food and returning with it.

Breathing out shakily, Jaskier cleared his throat, hoping to interrupt because Geralt figured it out. “It doesn’t matter. It was clearly a misunderstanding between us.” When Geralt looked crestfallen, Jaskier bit back an exasperated curse. “Not— Not the whole idea of us dating, you gorgeous idiot. Just how we’ve been going about it.”

Geralt nodded slowly, either believing him, or unwilling to press in case Jaskier changed his mind. “So. What now?”

“Now we’re going to go back to the living room and sit together, maybe even hold hands, if you’re feeling especially daring.” Jaskier decided, turning and heading out of the room. With a quiet “Hm”, Geralt followed after him.

There was a strange awkward air to the living room, with both Ciri and Yennefer appearing discomforted. It was almost like they’d been privy to the argument between Jaskier and Geralt, though their voices shouldn’t have carried much past the sound insulation. Confused but willing to let it go, Jaskier settled back on the couch.

At the doorway to the room Geralt hesitated, before moving to sit beside Jaskier.

Apparently, that cheered Ciri, who smiled and hit play on the next movie. About twenty minutes into it, Jaskier felt Geralt’s hand brush against his own. Jaskier had a feeling that he was probably smiling like a fool, but as his fingers intertwined with Geralt’s, he didn’t especially care.

***

Things got better after that. Texts between the two of them grew more frequent; Jaskier found himself rambling, and while it sometimes took Geralt a while to reply, he always did. And suddenly, all of Jaskier’s free time was being occupied. Either Ciri wanted to meet, or Geralt did, or Jaskier was invited to the apartment when all three occupants were home.

Despite the increase in communication, Jaskier and Geralt’s relationship continued to move slowly. Geralt was tentative with physical affection, and Jaskier let him set the pace. They would hold hands when Geralt reached out; there were chaste kisses, against Jaskier’s lips or cheek, or the top of his head.

It was surprisingly nice, a relief to have that breathing space. Neither of them really knew what they were doing and taking their time to feel things out helped.

But Jaskier could admit to himself that it was frustrating at times. Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri were very tactile with one another. Always brushing their hands over necks or shoulders, frequent hugs, and Ciri had a habit of tucking herself up against Geralt or Yennefer. Jaskier didn’t really understand where the invisible divide was, between how Geralt thought of him, and how he thought of his flatmates.

The glacial pace of their relationship started to feel like a holding pattern and Jaskier didn’t know how to change it. Because that was just how his luck was, when the time did come for change, everything that happened was wildly beyond Jaskier’s control.

***

Almost three months had passed since Ciri got back in contact with Jaskier, a little less than that since Jaskier and Geralt started dating. For the first time, everyone was getting together for a night out; Geralt, Ciri, Yennefer, and their respective significant others. Ciri spoke often about Renfri, of course, but Jaskier hadn’t met her or Triss yet.

They all met up at McAnally's, just like that night, months ago.

At first everything went well. Triss, Jaskier was learning, was sweet and genuine and good. She tempered Yennefer’s... everything, making the other woman more bearable to be around. Renfri, while being slightly terrifying when she smiled, was also whip-smart and surprisingly kind, especially when holding hands with Ciri. For the first time, Jaskier felt something settle within him; the thought that maybe, he could have this.

Of course, that was when it all went to hell.

Looking back, Jaskier realized his first mistake was leaving the group. Geralt was the designated responsible sober-ish one, and needed a refill. Jaskier volunteered himself to be the one to fetch something non-alcoholic from the bar.

There was no issue with getting the drink. On the way back, Jaskier found himself colliding with someone else. “Sorry,” He began, the apology coming out automatically. When he glanced up, the first stirrings of unease went through him.

The stranger was tall and broad, built like a brick wall. Something about his smile was slightly feral, and Jaskier didn’t like the way he was being looked at. “You’re a pretty one,” The man began, his smile widening. “I can see why the White Wolf is taken with you. But,” He leaned close, breathing in deeply. “You’re not pack, not yet. You haven’t even been marked by him, have you?”

Jaskier tried to take a step back to put space between them, but found the crowd was too thick. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” His voice came out too shaky, damn it. Clearing his throat, Jaskier tried again. “But I can tell you, I’m definitely not interested in whatever nonsense you’ve got going on. If you’ll excuse me—” Jaskier tried to step around the man and move past him.

He was prevented from doing so when the man reached out and grabbed Jaskier’s wrist. “Did I say you could leave?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alarm bells were beginning to sound distantly in the back of Jaskier’s head. “I—” From the crowd, two similarly built men came to stand behind the first. Craning his neck, Jaskier tried to look for Geralt, but the angle was all wrong to see the booth that the group was at.

Just as Jaskier was about to yell and cause a scene, the man’s hand was ripped away from his wrist. It was Geralt, teeth gritted and eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare.” He growled, pushing Jaskier back and behind him.

“Ah, finally.” The man seemed more pleased than upset at the interruption. “I was starting to wonder how long I’d have to toy with this one to get your attention.”

“What do you want?” Geralt practically growled.

“This could’ve been prevented if you had just kept to yourself. But you’re obviously trying to expand, with all the new members you’re recruiting.” The man bared his teeth, in a sickening grin. “I might even claim that pretty thing as mine, since you’ve failed to.”

Was that an _actual_ growl, rising from Geralt’s throat? He looked like he was contemplating tearing open the man’s throat with his teeth. Jaskier felt something catch in his breathing, unsure if he was hearing things correctly. 

Someone else appeared and cleared their throat. It was Mac, the owner. “You know the rules,” He said. “Not here. If you have something to settle, you go out back.” He jerked his head towards the back exit.

“Well?” The man asked Geralt, raising an eyebrow. “Me and my boys against yours. Three on three. Winner takes all; the trinket and the territory. Think you can handle those odds?”

In response, Geralt grinned.

It seemed to happen in a blur; they returned to the table, picking up the others, and then the whole lot of them took the winding path out of the bar and into the open space out back. The aggressor and his two henchmen were in front; they moved towards the back fence before turning to face their opponents.

“Stay. Here.” Geralt demanded, addressing Jaskier, pushing him back before stepping forward. He took point, with Yennefer falling into step behind his right shoulder, and Ciri two steps behind his left.

“What the hell is going on?” Jaskier asked aloud, thoroughly confused.

Then it happened.

It was almost as if the air wavered around the lackey furthest back as his skin started to ripple. Then fur burst out, his limbs elongated, his face twisted into a wolf’s. His transformation had just finished when the other two men did the same.

Not believing what he was seeing, Jaskier blinked rapidly.

And then Geralt went through the same transformation, along with Yennefer, and Ciri.

Distantly behind him, Jaskier noted he could hear Triss and Renfri speaking to one another. “Wait, why’s he so pale? He doesn’t know?” Triss said.

“Apparently not.” Renfri replied.

“Oh shit.”

Then Renfri was reaching out and dragging Jaskier back, just as Geralt dashed forward. The door shut in front of his face before Jaskier could see what happened when his blow landed. There was a small side room nearby that the humans moved into.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jaskier began, dazed and very confused.

“Werewolves.” Renfri replied simply, sticking her hands into her pockets. She seemed entirely unfazed by the proceedings. Triss, while also unsurprised, at least looked worried.

The slightly hysterical sound that escaped Jaskier’s mouth wasn’t quite a laugh. “Werewolves.” He repeated disbelievingly, staring back at Renfri. “And they’re fighting because...?”

“Because that meat-head is an idiot.” Renfri snorted when Jaskier shot a glare at her. “Not Geralt. The one who challenged him. It breaks the truce they’ve got set in place, though he’ll probably be able to justify it to his Alpha. If he survives, that is.”

“I don’t...” Jaskier heard the words she was saying, but they didn’t make any sense to him. “I don’t understand.”

Just on the side of too hard, Renfri patted Jaskier’s cheek twice. “There, there. You’ll get your exposition dump in time.” She cocked her head, apparently listening for something. 

An uneasy silence fell for what felt like forever. Finally three sets of howls could be heard, and Renfri gave a sigh of relief. “Ah, they’re done already. Excellent.”

She headed out of the room, Triss on her heels, and Jaskier bringing up the rear. They moved back outside, the door opening to reveal the carnage that had taken place. Two of the men had been reduced to glistening piles of meat and bones smeared pink with blood. The third was bleeding heavily, collapsed onto his knees. His hands clutched at his side, which had a gaping wound. He stared up at Geralt, his eyes wide and terrified. “Please—” He pleaded, speaking from a mouth that was human once more.

Geralt stood over him, mostly shifted back, but with hands that still ended in claws, blood dripping from them. “The _only_ reason I’m letting you live, is to carry this message back to your Alpha.” Geralt leaned in, face to face with the man. “Leave us the _fuck_ alone.

The man was already nodding before Geralt had finished speaking. “Yep, yep, I will, got it.” He babbled, getting to his feet. It took three tries; the first two times, his foot slipped in the spreading puddle of blood oozing from what remained of his compatriots. Limping, he shouldered his way past the humans and disappeared behind the door.

The door opened again as Mac came out with two employees. He glanced disinterestedly at the mess before turning to Geralt. “They deserve it?”

Geralt nodded. “Yes.”

“You and yours going to make any more trouble?” Mac continued.

“Not unless it finds us first.” Geralt replied.

That seemed good enough for Mac, who nodded vaguely. With a hand gesture from him, the two employees began shoveling the remains into garbage bags. 

Meanwhile, Geralt quickly and quietly conferred with Yennefer and Ciri, and then all three looked at their humans. Movements purposeful, Geralt herded everyone back inside into the side room. Triss threw herself at Yennefer, kissing the other woman desperately. Renfri was murmuring something in Ciri’s ear, as her hand reached up to toy with a strand of the other woman’s hair. And Jaskier was staring at Geralt like he’d never seen him before.

“Are you hurt?” Geralt asked, moving closely into Jaskier’s space. Jaskier didn’t speak, just gave a short, jerky shake of his head to indicate that he wasn’t.

Ciri looked away from Renfri to the two men. She took in Jaskier’s expression and her own softened. “I think we need to have a talk, Jaskier and I.” Ciri announced.

Yennefer shrugged, sailing out of the room, leading Triss after her. Renfri pulled Ciri into a quick but thorough kiss, before leaving as well. Geralt crossed his arms. “I’m not going.”

While Ciri rolled her eyes at him, she didn’t actually seem that bothered. She turned to Jaskier, and the two stared at each other for a long moment.

Finally Jaskier spoke. “You’re a werewolf,” He stated.

Ciri nodded. “Yes.”

“You weren’t, when we first met.” Jaskier was fairly sure of the answer but he had to ask.

“No, I wasn’t.” Ciri agreed.

“But you—” Jaskier started.

“—Got bit,” Ciri finished, “And I—”

“—Dropped out and disappeared.” Jaskier frowned, still not understanding. “Why?”

Breaking the gaze between then, Ciri looked away. “The shift, it’s... Overwhelming at first. It can’t be controlled, I wasn't keep myself together long enough to say goodbye to you in person. But Geralt took me in and helped me settle. It took a year and a half.”

Jaskier’s eyebrows shot up. “Why didn’t I hear from you then?” He asked with a quiet anger.

Running a hand through her hair, Ciri sighed. “Because it wasn’t safe. The man who bit me challenged Geralt, to try and force me out of Geralt’s pack and into his own. Geralt killed him. His father, the alpha of the other pack, felt threatened. He thought Geralt was trying to displace him. But before they could attack us, his own pack began to fight among themselves over who would replace the dead heir. That was a year ago. It’s been so quiet, we thought the pack had destroyed itself. I thought it was finally safe enough to get back in contact with you.”

“You call this safe?” Jaskier made a disbelieving noise.

“We thought it was!” Ciri shot back.

Abruptly, Jaskier’s attention swung to Geralt. “And you. When were you going to tell me about all this?” Geralt shrugged silently, and looked away, crossing his arms.

Something else slowly registered. “You... killed those men.” Jaskier said softly. “Does this happen often?”

Another shrug for Geralt. Ciri winced before speaking. “We only kill when it's absolutely necessary. They wouldn’t have let us live, if given the chance.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then.” Jaskier let out a bitter, brittle laugh.

“Jaskier, please—” Ciri began, reaching out for him and taking a step forward. 

Stepping back, Jaskier shook his head. “I, I have to go.” He stuttered, before quickly fleeing from the room. Both Ciri and Geralt watched him go with matching mournful expressions. 

Only vaguely aware of his surroundings, Jaskier shoved his way through the crowd and out the bar’s front door. Then he stood in place for a moment, still trying to put together everything that had happened. With a sigh, Jaskier shook his head and started to head home.

***

The next morning, Jaskier woke up to an irreverent text from Ciri. Throughout the day she texted him various things, acting like the previous night hadn’t happened. Geralt, unsurprisingly, went silent.

For a week, Jaskier mulled over what he’d learned, licking his metaphorical wounds.

At the beginning of the second week someone knocked on his apartment door. He answered it to find Yennefer standing there. “I knew something like this was going to happen,” She spoke accusingly, jabbing a finger towards him as she stalked forward. Skittering back into his apartment, Jaskier watched dumbly as she swung the door shut, before turning to scowl at him.

Anger rising, Jaskier glared back. “None of this is my fault.” He snapped.

“Isn’t it though?” Yennefer rolled her eyes. “It was bound to come out, eventually. But I knew you were going to be like this, when you learned.”

“Oh, really? And there wasn’t a way of telling me that didn’t involve multiple homicides?” Jaskier said, slightly hysterical.

Yennefer shrugged dismissively, crossing her arms. “It happens, especially in contested territory like this city. This is what our world is like.” She stared steadily at Jaskier.

There was another detail that had been bothering him; “Triss and Renfri... They both knew?” Jaskier asked.

“I told Triss the first night we spent together. Renfri figured it out on her own; she’s human, but comes from a pack of ‘wolves.” Yennefer replied evenly. 

“But no one told me.” Jaskier persisted. That still stung.

“I thought we should, actually.” Yennefer said, surprising him. “But Ciri didn’t want to scare you off, and Geralt thought that he would lose you, when you found out. Was he right?” She tilted her head slightly, staring at Jaskier.

Jaskier was silent.

Looking to the ceiling briefly, Yennefer sighed, before her gaze returned to Jaskier. “And now you have a choice to make. Either you accept that this is your life now, with everything that means – or you deny it, go back to your normal life, and lose Ciri and Geralt.”

Slowly Jaskier began to nod, because she was right. But... “It isn’t much of a choice, really.” Jaskier said softly, with a strained smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Since it was somehow the less terrifying of the two options, Jaskier reached out to Ciri first. The cafe that they met at recently had a park nearby, and it was there that Jaskier requested they meet. It wasn’t as though he was scared of Ciri, just... He felt better meeting on neutral ground, in public.

Probably not the best sign but Jaskier was doing his best.

She was there first, easy to find with her white-blonde hair standing out in the crowd. Ciri sat on the right side of a bench, staring down at her phone. When Jaskier drew close, she looked up and smiled tentatively.

Nerves thrumming in his stomach, Jaskier gave his best smile back, raising a hand in greeting. He sat next to her on the bench, though she immediately swung into sitting cross-legged so she could face him.

“...Hi.” Ciri started.

“Hello.” Jaskier returned.

Letting out a huff of laughter, she ducked her head, still smiling. “How is this somehow both more and less awkward then when I was apologizing to you in the cafe?”

“Probably less, because I know you’re a werewolf now, so there’s that taken care of. But also more, because, well, now that I know, now what?” Jaskier pointed out, in what he felt was a reasonable tone, leaning back on his hands.

“Yeah, I think you’ve got it.” Her smile shrank as Ciri looked up at him. “So...” Her voice was cautious. “It’s been a few weeks... Not that I’m trying to rush you!” She hurried to add. “Or put any pressure on you, one way or the other, or...” Ciri trailed off, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Damn it. I’m starting to sound like you.”

“Dire straits indeed.” Jaskier quipped, making her laugh. “I...” He sighed. “I know now that you had your reasons for dropping out. And that you were doing what you thought was best, by shutting me out.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming...” Ciri raised her eyebrows at him.

“Well. Ditching me at the bar wasn’t great. And if you do it again, I will be very upset with you.” Jaskier watched as Ciri processed those words, the implicit acceptance in them, and then she threw herself at him for a hug. Letting out a breath, letting go of some hurt that had been sitting heavily on his shoulders, Jaskier hugged her back.

With a sudden jerk, Ciri drew back. “Oh! But about Renfri.”

Jaskier found he was grinning rather helplessly. “Don’t tell me there’s a secret werewolf reason for why you just _had_ to meet her.” Ciri flushed, and Jaskier gaped at her. “Wait, _really_?”

A blush stained her cheeks as Ciri ducked her head. “It’s...” She sighed shortly. “We have a really good sense of smell, alright? So how someone smells to us is a big deal. Stop looking at me like that!” Her voice went high-pitched during the last bit.

“I just... Seriously?” Jaskier had to ask.

“Yes! I’m sure it’ll come up with you and Geralt at some point.” Ciri laughed when that made Jaskier give an answering blush. “Anyway. Renfri. Even over everyone else’s scents, she stood out to me and...” Ciri trailed off, going starry-eyed, before softly adding, “She smells like home.”

That brought a lump to Jaskier’s throat; he didn’t miss the significance, knowing that Ciri had lost her family – her home – twice over in her life. “So you’re good then, you and her?” He had to ask.

Smile a bit watery still, Ciri nodded. “Yeah, we really are.”

“Good.” Jaskier meant it, reaching out with one hand and taking hers, giving it a soft squeeze. He went to pull back but found Ciri holding on still. Raising an eyebrow, Jaskier gave her a quizzical look.

“What about you and Geralt?” Ciri asked.

“That is between us.” Jaskier replied, firmly. “We have our own things to talk over, him and I.” When that made her frown, he gave her hand another squeeze, before she finally let him pull back. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t make you choose between us and hopefully, neither will he.”

“Okay, if you say so...” Ciri still seemed doubtful.

To distract her, Jaskier asked, “What do I smell like?”

“Like...” She trailed off and shrugged. “Me and Geralt mostly, though that’s faded. You smell kind of like pack? Like family. But not. It’s really confusing, actually.” Ciri wrinkled her nose.

“Flattering.” Jaskier’s voice was dry, though the quirk of his smile showed he wasn’t actually offended.

“Ask Geralt.” Ciri teased, “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to wax poetic about your scent.” Jaskier let out a huff that might’ve been a laugh. After a moment, she tentatively nudged a knee against his leg. “You and I then – friends?”

He was tempted to make a joke about it, but he did have _some_ tact. Instead, Jaskier smiled gently and nodded. “Yeah, friends. Though I do still expect you to work for it, some, I’m _not_ that easy.”

“Really, because I seem to remember differently when we were at that one party and there was that douchey frat boy—” Ciri began, breaking off into a laugh when Jaskier pushed her gently away.

***

It may have been out of a slight amount of pettiness – though there was also a strong dash of nerves – that made Jaskier hold back on contacting Geralt for another two days. When he did, it was for them to meet at the park where he met with Ciri.

Jaskier was amused to see when he got there, Geralt was sitting on the same bench that he and Ciri had been on. Roach, in her service vest, was laying calmly at Geralt’s feet. She rose into a sitting position when Jaskier got close.

Silence hung heavy in the air as Jaskier and Geralt stared at each other silently. Finally, Jaskier cleared his throat. “Move over, please. I’m not having this conversation standing in front of you. The situation is already enough like something out of a teen rom-com.”

Still staying silent, Geralt moved slightly so he was more on the right side of the bench. One of his hands moved to rest on Roach’s head as he watched Jaskier sit.

“So...” Jaskier blew out a breath, glancing at Geralt, before deciding to get right to it. “That’s why you were holding back on me, wasn’t it? With the touching, I mean. Because you were scared that you would be too much and show your hand, so to speak.”

Geralt nodded.

“What I don’t get...” Jaskier sighed, linking his hands to nervously twist them together. “Is what you wanted. Why did you take up with me in the first place, then?” He kept staring at Geralt, taking him in.

For the first time in the conversation, Geralt finally spoke. “I wanted to enjoy being with you while I could, and I tried to be what you deserved.”

“But you didn’t want me to know what you really were. Does that mean...” Jaskier swallowed hard. “That you didn’t want anything permanent?” The thought had been haunting him, since it came to mind.

“I never lied to you,” Geralt kept his gaze low, watching the movements of Jaskier’s hands. “When I said that I wanted you. I still do.”

“You’re not making any sense.” Jaskier had to point out; Geralt simply shrugged. So Jaskier changed course. “You and Yennefer.” He watched as the set of Geralt’s shoulders stiffened, but pushed on. “That you still live together, how you comfort her when she’s upset... That’s a werewolf thing?”

“Yes.” For a moment, Geralt’s eyes flicked up to look at Jaskier’s face, before glancing down again. “She’s pack – family. It isn’t romantic.

Jaskier nodded vaguely. He didn’t fully understand what that meant, but combined with what Ciri had said, he was starting to. When Jaskier spoke his next question, his voice was quiet. “What happened at the bar, does that happen a lot?”

“No. But,” Finally, Geralt met Jaskier’s eyes, an earnest expression on his face. “I’ll protect you, if it does.” Quieter, “if you’ll let me.”

“If I’m pack?” Jaskier pressed. “Does that mean being bitten, turning into a werewolf?”

“Yes, I want you to join our pack.” For the span of a second, Geralt looked desperate, before his expression smoothed out once more. “But no, you don’t have to take the bite. Humans can be pack too. Triss and Renfri are both human, and want to stay that way.” 

“Huh...” Jaskier thought that over before he grimaced. “And it won’t be embarrassing for you, to be with someone as pathetic as me?”

“You’re not pathetic.” Geralt snapped before he gritted his teeth and looked away. He spent a moment focused on Roach, before calming down and looking back up. “That’s not anyone’s business. And I’m strong enough, with Yen and Ciri at my back.” Apparently finished speaking, Geralt went quiet, just watching Jaskier. 

Now it was Jaskier who looked away, thinking it over for several long moments. But, like he said to Yen, he already knew what his answer was going to be. It was an easy decision to make, but hard to voice. “I still want there to be an ‘us’, to be with you, if you’ll still have me.”

The wording made Geralt frown briefly, before his expression cleared and brightened. “Of course I do.” His voice was low, his eyes intent.

What else could Jaskier do, besides lean forward and kiss him? Then a question came to mind, and he had to pull back and ask, “What do I smell like to you? Do I set your wolfish senses alight?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Rolling his eyes, Geralt reeled him back in for another kiss.

***

The next day, someone knocking on his door made Jaskier look up. He’d been fiddling with his guitar, trying to work out a song that was stuck in his head. Setting aside the instrument, Jaskier got up and answered the door. “Well, hello there.” He smiled at Ciri.

“Hi!” Ciri chirped back. When Jaskier moved back, she stepped into the apartment, taking a moment to drag her hand down the door frame. 

Jaskier watched the movement with a frown. “Geralt’s been doing that too, whenever he comes over...” Ciri briefly rubbed her cheek against his, before she dropped down on his couch and rolled around a bit. “Are you... getting your scent all over my apartment?”

Her legs propped up on the back of the couch, her head hanging off, Ciri sent an upside down grin at Jaskier. “Can’t hurt.” She answered, unrepentant. “Got to make sure everyone knows who’s pack you belong to.” Her gaze strayed to the juncture between his shoulders and neck. “I can see Geralt’s been marking his territory too.”

Automatically, Jaskier clapped a hand over the spot she glanced at, before realizing that it had been covered by his clothes; it was his reaction that confirmed its existence. “You’re incorrigible.” He told her.

Ciri shrugged cheerfully, an odd looking movement, considering her position. “Got to make sure you’re both happy. You’re starting to smell more like him, like you’re his.”

“That... is very unnerving.” Jaskier had to admit, not sure how he felt about that. It was true that, as high school as it sounded, he and Geralt had finally progressed to second base. The stranger’s words from the bar flashed back to him; _“You haven’t even been marked by him, have you?”_

Something unpleasant squirmed in his stomach. “Is it... a safety thing? To protect me from other werewolves?” Put that way, it made Geralt’s actions seem obligatory, rather than passionate.

“No!” Ciri swung herself into sitting upright, correcting herself a moment later. “I mean, it is, kinda.” When her words made Jaskier’s expression dim further, she hurried to say, “It’s instinct, and to make sure you’re safe. But it’s _because_ you’re important to us. We don’t touch you _just_ to scent-mark you, it’s a secondary bonus.”

Jaskier hummed thoughtfully as he turned that over in his mind, before going to sit down in his armchair. In order to do so, he had to pick up his guitar, which was balanced between the two armrests. He looked up to see Ciri watching him eagerly, bright-eyed. “What?” He asked.

“Are you going to play for me?” Ciri asked, wiggling slightly to make herself more comfortable against the couch. “It’s been forever since I’ve heard you sing.”

“I...” Jaskier hesitated. To play in front of someone else, especially one of his original songs, meant baring himself to them. But. In the past, Ciri always had provided insightful feedback and he’d missed that. So he nodded. “I’ve been working on something new...” He cleared his throat and began to sing;

“ _The fairer sex, they often call it, but her love's as unfair as a crook..._ ” Towards the end of the song, his fingers faltered and Jaskier trailed off before shrugging. “That’s all I’ve got so far. It’s a work in progress.”

Ciri cocked her head, gaze uncanny. “That’s about Geralt and Yennefer, isn’t it?”

“Ah... yes, and no.” Jaskier admitted. “It is about the idea of two people being drawn to one another, like magnets... But, well, I might... be a bit jealous. I _know_ they’re not together anymore and that Geralt’s with me. But I don’t think he’ll ever be indifferent to her and she’ll always hold some sort of power over him.”

“She’s his second; It’s her job to be able to change his mind. But it goes both ways,” Ciri said softly. “Geralt’s the only person I know who, when Yennefer is fixated on something, can get her to stop and think things over. They make each other better.”

Jaskier winced, eyes dropping to the floor. “Great, thanks for that.” Almost without thought, he fell back on playing chords from a song that he always found soothing.

Guilt flashed across her face as Ciri bit her lip. “But you mean something to him too.” She insisted.

Without replying, Jaskier shrugged one of his shoulders. “Anyway.” He began, clearly casting about for a change in subject. “What have you been working on lately?”

She shot him an unimpressed look, but let the matter drop. “I’ve been trying to make bracelets that are video game inspired, without them looking too tacky. I figured they’d be good to add to our table, next time we’re at a con. And I...” Ciri ducked her head, blushing slightly. “I’m also working on something to give to Renfri.”

“Oh? And how’s that going?” Jaskier found himself smiling without really thinking about it. It was a nice change, to see Ciri completely head-over-heels for someone. Unlike Jaskier, she was slow to warm to people.

“It’s... going.” She smiled self-deprecatingly. “It’s intimidating to try and match her...” Ciri trailed off and shrugged, unable to find the right words.

“General magnificence?” Jaskier suggested; even though Renfri wasn’t his type, she was undeniably beautiful.

“That works, yeah.” Ciri nodded. She spent a moment watching Jaskier fiddle with his guitar, before getting bored. With a stretch, she stood, wandering over to the bookshelf of movies and games next to the TV. Her gaze skipped over spines before spotting something familiar. “No way.” Ciri was grinning as she drew out the first DVD set. “You still have your Supernatural DVDs?”

“Only up to season five.” Jaskier confirmed, his smile sheepish. “I dropped off after that, and I never got back into it.” 

“I remember, yeah, but... Still? I’m surprised, can’t you just stream it?” Ciri asked.

Frowning, Jaskier shrugged. “It isn’t the same, they don’t have rights for the songs anymore so they’re cut out. I haven’t watched any of it in years, but, well, might as well hang onto the DVDs.”

“That’s fair.” Ciri nodded, putting the box set back. Another spine caught her eye, and she drew it out. “I forgot about Legally Blonde! I haven’t seen this since... Since last time we watched it, probably. Can I put it on?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at Jaskier.

First he put his guitar carefully to the side, before standing up. “Sure, though I’ll get it set up.” Jaskier accepted the case from her, before going and putting the DVD into his PS4. He settled back into his chair as Ciri curled up on the sofa.

About halfway through the movie, Ciri announced she was _starving_ , and it was almost time for dinner anyway. After a lively debate, they decided to order delivery from a family-owned Greek place that Ciri insisted was _amazing_. Once they were done eating, Jaskier had to agree it was very good, but heavy on the garlic.

As credits played on the TV, Ciri checked her phone. “Geralt wants me to head home; he doesn't like me to staying out too late.” With an amused huff, she rolled her eyes as she stood. “Not like I can handle myself or anything.”

“Geralt never struck me as the worrying type.” Jaskier noted, following her to the front door. “...Thanks for coming by.” It had been nice to spend time together, just the two of them.

“He fusses over the people he cares about.” She rolled her eyes, smiling. “And of course!” Ciri nuzzled her cheek against Jaskier. “See you soon,” she promised, before letting herself out of the apartment.

***

‘Soon’ ended up being the next day, when they all gathered at Geralt and crew’s apartment. 

Jaskier noticed his water glass was empty. “Be right back.” He murmured to Geralt, keeping his voice low, not wanting to be too much of a bother.

Geralt gave a distracted nod, absorbed in the movie that was playing on the TV. Jaskier couldn’t help kissing the corner of Geralt’s mouth, before disentangling himself; he, Geralt, Ciri, and Renfri were all squished together onto the couch. Because they were smart, Yennefer and Triss were sharing the armchair.

Almost forgetting his glass, Jaskier grabbed it before moving into the kitchen. He refilled it from the tap and then leaned against the counter, thinking. It was rare for everyone’s schedules to line up so that all six of them were able to spend time together, and it was only the second time that it’d happened. Despite how peaceful the evening had been so far, how they’d stayed in, Jaskier found himself feeling uneasy.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Triss’ voice was soft as she approached but she still managed to startle Jaskier, who hadn’t noticed her. “Sorry!” She smiled apologetically.

“Quite alright! My own fault for not paying more attention.” Jaskier replied breezily, smiling back, though his expression soon sobered. “I was thinking... of how poorly things went, the last time all six of us were together.”

Triss winced, but nodded slowly. “I know. I've been thinking that too.” She admitted.

Both of them paused, sinking into a gloomy silence.

Clearly gathering herself, Triss shook her head before crossing the kitchen. Opening the cupboard above the stove, she peered at the contents before giving a decisive nod. “We should make cookies.” Triss announced. Jaskier blinked at her, not sure where that came from. Answering the questioning look he gave her, Triss said, “I don’t really feel like watching the rest of that movie, and while we’re both hiding out in the kitchen, we might as well do _something._ ”

“I... have no way to argue that.” Jaskier admitted. “Okay, where should we start?”

The batter was mostly done when Renfri joined them. “Right, what’s going on here then?” She asked, peering curiously into the large mixing bowl.

“We’re making cookies.”Jaskier cheerfully informed her. “Want to help?”

Renfri blinked at him before shrugging. “Sure, why not? I give the ‘wolves...” She paused, staring off into space as she mentally did the calculations. “Another fifteen minutes before they notice we’re all gone. They’re all distracted by that movie.”

“I can’t believe they’re all engrossed with a movie about sled dogs. There are _so_ many jokes to be made.” Jaskier snickered to himself.

“I’ve been biting my tongue all night.” Renfri agreed, and they exchanged conspiratorial grins.

Triss shook her head but rolled her eyes fondly, giving the dough another stir. “Alright, so, Jaskier, you voted for semi-sweet chips. I’m adding white chocolate. Renfri, what about you?”

“Um... Milk chocolate, I guess?” She volunteered, looking bewildered. “To make it triple chocolate?”

“Good choice.” Triss nudged her gently on the way to the ingredient cupboard, smiling softly. Renfri gave a small smile back.

True to Renfri’s prediction, the first batch of cookies was finished by the time that the ‘wolves realized their humans were gone. They arrived at the kitchen to find Jaskier and Renfri bickering amiably about who was the best dog in video games.

“Dogmeat from Fallout 3 is clearly the winner,” Jaskier argued, gesturing wildly with his free hand; the other was wrapped around his water glass. “He’s nigh invincible, gets replaced by a puppy version if he does die, helps in fights, _and_ finds items for you! He is _the_ best boy.”

“Okay grandpa.” Renfri snorted. “You know that game isn’t even playable anymore, right? On the other hand, the dog in World of Horror provides a great combat bonus and also looks cute on loading screens.”

“Does Yoshi count as a dog?” Triss asked, as she slid another tray of cookie dough into the oven. “I used to play those games with my siblings.”

Jaskier’s reply was an immediate, indignant “No!” 

“What? Why not?” Renfri shot back, winking at Triss. “He’s the original video game dog, if you think about it.”

“He’s a _dinosaur_.” Jaskier groaned, dropping his head back on the chair. Doing so brought a very bewildered Geralt into his line of vision. “Oh, good, back-up! Please tell Renfri how grievously mistaken she is.”

“What.” Geralt spoke flatly, as a general query about what the fuck was happening.

Meanwhile, Yennefer slid past him, moving further into the kitchen. “Those smell amazing.” She kissed Triss on the cheek, grabbing a still warm cookie from the batch sitting on a cooling rack. “Is that why you had me stock up on baking supplies?”

“Yeah,” Triss confirmed with a smile. “They’re made from a secret recipe that’s been passed down through my family.” Her smile widened as both Jaskier and Renfri laughed, having been told earlier that the recipe’s secret ingredient was a specific type of lard.

Also pushing past Geralt, Ciri wrapped her arms around Renfri’s shoulders and snuggled in close. “I don’t know whether I’m relieved you’re all bonding, or disappointed that you’re doing it without us.” She tried to steal one of Renfri’s cookies, and made a noise of mock outrage as Renfri lightly batted away her hand.

“Lesson one about living with ‘wolves,” Renfri confided in Jaskier, pretending to ignore her girlfriend. “Always defend your food, or else it’ll disappear from your plate before you know it.”

“But sharing is caring.” Jaskier widened his eyes in faux innocence, picking up a cookie and offering it to Geralt. Still looking deeply confused, Geralt nonetheless accepted it. Jaskier smiled up at him, amused by his boyfriend attempting to look stoic while eating.

And that’s how the whole group ended up gathered around the kitchen table. Geralt silently loomed over Jaskier, until Jaskier insisted that he was being creepy and should take the chair to his right. Meanwhile, Ciri dragged her chair closer so she was pressed up against Renfri. Yennefer brought the armchair over the table, and once the second tray of cookies was out of the oven, insisted Triss sit in her lap.

Renfri and Jaskier resumed ranking all video game dogs, with occasional input from Ciri. Triss, who was unfamiliar with most titles, began insisting that they provide the reasoning about where each dog ranked the list. Yennefer, for her part, seemed content to curl protectively around Triss and listen in. And Geralt surveyed the group, with a kind of pleased bewilderment.

It was definitely, Jaskier thought to himself, a much more successful evening than the last time.

***

When Jaskier’s phone went off, it was while he was in the process of draping himself dramatically over his couch, in search of the most uncomfortable to comfortable position. No one from the group (he felt silly calling them ‘the pack’) had contacted him for his company for a few days, and Jaskier found himself oddly bereft when left to his own devices.

Then his phone vibrated on the coffee table, and Jaskier nearly fell off the couch in his haste to answer it.

 **Geralt:** I’m taking Roach to the dog park

 **Jaskier:** Good for you?

He could just imagine Geralt rolling his eyes in exasperation, and the mental image made Jaskier grin.

 **Geralt:** Do you want to come along?

 **Jaskier:** Yes!!!

 **Geralt:** We’re outside your apartment

Still grinning, Jaskier took a second to grab some necessities (hat, wallet, keys, phone) before heading out. “You know,” He began, once he stepped out the front door and saw Geralt standing there with Roach, “you could’ve come up and asked me in person.”

Talkative as always, Geralt shrugged, before using Jaskier’s shirt to tug him in close and kiss him. With a happy hum, Jaskier brought his hands up to frame Geralt’s face, tweaking his ponytail when he pulled back.

“Hi, by the way.” Jaskier added, eyes soft and his smile fond.

“Hello.” Geralt replied, taking a moment to tuck his face into the curve of Jaskier’s neck and breathe in his scent. Used to it, Jaskier indulged himself in running his hands over Geralt’s shoulders and down his arms.

When Geralt stepped away, Jaskier snagged the hand that wasn’t holding Roach’s leash. He gazed over at Roach, and blinked when he realized she wasn’t wearing her service vest. “Can I say hi?” Jaskier asked, just to be safe. When Geralt nodded, Jaskier immediately spent several minutes fussing over her. Once he was satisfied that Roach had been thoroughly assured of what a good girl she was, Jaskier straightened back up and reclaimed Geralt’s hand. Roach began to walk, with Geralt and Jaskier trailing after her.

During the walk to the park, Jaskier rambled on about nothing in particular (more specifically, how he’d fallen back into listening to Legally Blonde: The Musical, and as a result, the song Gay or European was constantly stuck in his head). Geralt grunted and said he’d never heard of it, so of course, Jaskier had to start singing the song.

It wasn’t his best performance, since it was a full cast song, but Jaskier did his best. “We’re here.” Geralt interrupted, just as Jaskier was getting really into it.

“...So we are.” Jaskier agreed. “Fine, I’ll just make you watch the musical with me sometime.” He followed after Geralt as they moved into the first fenced off area. Geralt unclipped Roach’s leash, and then opened the gate into the park. Roach hesitated, glancing back at her owner for permission. 

“Go on.” Geralt said, with a nod, and the dog was off like a shot, running further into the park. Geralt stepped in, Jaskier a step behind, and shut the gate behind them. In a move that surprised Jaskier, Geralt linked their hands again as they leisurely walked. There were picnic tables dotted through the park, set near trees for shade. One table was empty, and that was the one Geralt led Jaskier over to.

Both sat on the table, their feet resting on the bench seat. For once, Jaskier let the silence between them hang as he figured out how to phrase his question. Finally; “I’ve been wondering... about you and Roach.”

To show he was listening, Geralt glanced over and raised an eyebrow.

Taking a moment to make sure no one was in earshot, but still leaning in closer and lowering his voice, Jaskier continued; “You say you have her for psychiatric reasons... But you never really said what that means?”

Slowly nodding, Geralt looked away. “She’s...” He sighed, pulling his hand free from Jaskier’s to gesture vaguely. “She’s my anchor. To help keep ourselves under control, to stop the wolf’s instincts from being overwhelming, we need a way to center ourselves. Ciri meditates, Yen does yoga, and... I have Roach.”

“What kind of diagnosis does being a werewolf translate to?” Jaskier wondered.

“Officially, anger management and anxiety.” Great shrugged with one shoulder. “The training is similar anyway. She’s attuned to my moods and knows when I need to calm down.”

That made sense, though... “How long do pit-bulls live for?” That was the most immediate flaw that came to mind, when Jaskier had thought it over.

“Twelve to fourteen years.” Geralt supplied immediately, and then anticipating what Jaskier's next question was going to be; “Roach is two and a half. Getting her was Ciri’s idea, actually.”

“Oh?” Jaskier prompted, nudging a knee against Geralt’s leg. “How did you cope before then?”

“Poorly.” Geralt replied dryly, which made Jaskier chuckle. “I...” His expression sobered. “I tried to use Yen as my anchor, and it worked for a while, but... It’s a lot to put on one person. And our relationship was too volatile, anyway.”

“It still seems like a temporary solution.” Jaskier pointed out. “What about when Roach gets old, or if something happens to her?”

Reclaiming Jaskier’s hand, Geralt shrugged. “When she gets older, she’ll retire and we’ll treat her like a normal pet. And I’ll get another service dog. Same if anything happens to her before then. And I have my pack – Yen and Ciri – to help keep me grounded when I can’t bring Roach along.”

Jaskier bit his lip, hesitating, before softly asking; “Do I help?”

“Yes.” Geralt answered immediately. “But the idea of anything happening to you, anyone outside of the pack touching you...” The light caught his eyes as he glanced over at Jaskier. “That makes it difficult for me to control myself.”

“That’s...” Jaskier had to clear his throat, flushing slightly. It shouldn’t have been a turn out, but it was.

Breathing in, Geralt’s eyes went wide and his pupils dilated. “I can smell you.” His voice was low, with the hint of a growl as he leaned closer to Jaskier. “Your _want_.” The words were spoken against Jaskier’s lips. Before they could kiss, Roach bounded up and threw herself heavily at Geralt’s legs. Geralt jolted, hand automatically going to rest on her head.

Letting out shaky breath, Jaskier wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed by the interruption. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Dog-gone-it Roach!” Jaskier joked, giving her a mock accusing look. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“There, there, Roach.” Geralt spoke with his usual calm. “It happens, no need to terrier-self up about it.”

When the words registered, Jaskier quickly looked over at Geralt. “Did you just...?” He breathed, disbelievingly. In his wildest imagination, Jaskier had never pegged Geralt the type to make _puns_.

Geralt’s mouth twitched, almost into a smile. “It’s a good thing you like Roach; people who hate dogs are re-pug-nant.”

Jaskier threw his head back as he laughed. When he composed himself, he grinned at Geralt. “She’s fur-tunate to have such a doting owner.”

“Some would say I’m ruff around the edges.” Geralt immediately supplied; he smiled, finally, as that made Jaskier laugh again. “But I’ll stop being a mal-tease, unless you’re paw-sitive that I should continue.”

“Okay, okay, you win.” Still grinning, Jaskier shook his head. “My compliments to you, from one word-smith to another.” Geralt grinned back, and Jaskier couldn’t help but close the distance between them, to kiss him.

“Sure I’m not barking up the wrong tree?” Geralt murmured, when they pulled apart.

That made Jaskier close his eyes briefly, as if pained. “Okay, now you need to stop.” He groaned.

“Are you sirius about that—”

“I will leave, don’t think I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dog puns taken from [here](https://parade.com/971707/parade/dog-puns/)! Inspired by a clip from the games that I saw on twitter, of Geralt and Yen trading dog puns back and forth.


	5. Chapter 5

After having checked in with her owner, Roach took off again. As Jaskier tracked her movements, he noticed Geralt watching him. “What?” Jaskier asked, still smiling slightly from the earlier barrage of puns.

“Just... Glad you’re here. With me.” Geralt admitted, giving Jaskier’s hand a gentle squeeze.

With tentative movements, Jaskier sidled closer to Geralt so they were pressed side to side. He blinked in surprise when Geralt’s arm draped over his shoulders, but then Jaskier smiled and leaned into it. A comfortable silence fell, until Geralt spoke up. “It was the full moon last night.”

“Oh?” Jaskier prompted, looking over at Geralt, waiting for him to continue.

Geralt nodded. “The days leading up to the full moon are... difficult on us. It’s a feeling of being pulled, like your skin is too small.” He paused, his free hand curling into a fist before he made himself relax. “Roach can tell how it affects me, and it’s stressful on her.”

Jaskier made a humming sound of agreement. “That makes sense.” He added.

“That’s why I took her out today, as an apology.” Geralt said, before he fell silent, but Jaskier found his interest was piqued.

“Do you have to transform on the full moon?” He asked. It suddenly occurred to Jaskier that he knew very little about the mechanics of being a werewolf, other than apparently an increased sense of smell, and feeling territorial about your paramour.

“Hm.” Geralt replied, and then grunted when Jaskier elbowed him in the side. “Yes and no,” He replied, putting on a long-suffering voice. “We’re not forced to, but the shift is harder to resist. It’s easier to change into our other form.”

“What do you do? On full moons I mean. Don’t tell me you come to this park and run around.” Jaskier snickered at his own joke, and then mock-gasped at the rumbling growl Geralt made in response. He peeked, making sure Geralt wasn’t _actually_ angry, and relaxed when he saw a glint in his eye that meant he was teasing Jaskier back.

“You know the conservation area, about half an hour out of town?” Geralt asked, waiting until Jaskier made an affirmative noise. “We go out there, the three of us. The other packs in the city go there too, but it’s big enough that we can avoid each other if we all stay in certain areas.”

“So, you... What? Run around? Commune with nature?” Jaskier asked, brow furrowing as he tried to imagine it.

“Yes.” Geralt replied.

“...Huh. Sounds... nice, actually.” Jaskier felt a pang of wistfulness. He still didn’t want to become a werewolf, but the idea of having a regular group ritual like that sounded comforting.

“If we were a proper pack—” Geralt began, before snapping his mouth shut and grimacing.

Catching the tail-end of the expression, Jaskier blinked. “What do you mean?” He prompted, trying to keep his voice gentle.

Still clearly not comfortable, Geralt sighed before speaking again. “Full moons should be a time for the whole pack, not just the ‘wolves.” Another pause, one long enough that Jaskier nearly had to ask him again to continue. “...Like they used to be.”

When the words clicked, Jaskier wiggled out from under Geralt’s arm, turning to face him. He was tired of not being able to properly see Geralt’s expressions. “Did you use to belong to another pack?”

“Yes.” Geralt stared off into the distance. “I was... adopted, and bitten, by a man named Vesemir. When I was eighteen, he chose me to be his successor, the next alpha. The other boys in the pack... they disagreed. They didn’t like that I was chosen over the older boys, and so the pack disbanded. I met Yennefer soon after. For the next ten years, it was just the two of us, until I came across Ciri.” He lapsed into a brooding silence.

Somehow, Jaskier had a feeling that Geralt didn’t talk about his old pack very often. “Thanks for telling me.” He picked up one of Geralt’s hands and pressed a kiss to the palm. Geralt watched him, and when Jaskier let go of his hand, leaned in and kissed him.

The kiss was short, but Jaskier didn’t mind, since he and Geralt were still feeling out how much affection they were comfortable with displaying in public. Besides, he didn’t want to lose track of his thought; “We could be, you know. A proper pack, I mean. Us humans probably couldn’t keep up with your shifted forms, but... Next full moon, we could bring tents, sleeping bags... Make it a camp-out.” Self-conscious, Jaskier shrugged. “Could be nice.”

“That’s... a good idea.” Geralt raised his eyebrows, looking surprised.

“I do have them on occasion.” Jaskier replied dryly, rolling his eyes. “...What?” He noticed Geralt was _looking_ at him, all intent.

“ _Thank you_.” Geralt’s voice was fervent. “For wanting to be a part of the pack, and making an effort.” He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. Smiling, Jaskier closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the contact.

***

Later that week, Geralt came to Jaskier’s apartment to pick him up. The pack was going out for the night; it had been Jaskier’s idea, another chance for everyone to get to know each other better. When Jaskier answered the door, he gestured for Geralt to come in. “One sec,” He said distractedly, crossing the apartment. “I just have to finish something.”

Jaskier went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him. Sitting on his bed, he picked up his guitar again. He was _so close_ to finishing the song, he just had to... figure out how to end it. After a minute of playing, he startled when Geralt knocked on the door.

“Jaskier... I can hear what you’re doing in there.” Geralt’s voice was dry and faintly amused.

Right, he remembered learning the other day that werewolves, besides having an improved sense of smell, also had super hearing. Jaskier cleared his throat, feeling faintly embarrassed. “...You might as well come in, then.”

Geralt opened the door and shut it behind him, leaning against it and crossing his arms. “Why didn’t you want to play in front of me?” He tilted his head slightly, gaze accessing.

Looking away, Jaskier shrugged, nervously tapping his fingers against the guitar. “I don’t want to be ‘that guy’, you know? The one who’s always like ‘anyway, here’s Wonderwall.’ I forgot to factor in your hearing.”

There was an awkward pause, before Geralt cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t mind though,” He said. “Listening to you play.”

Ducking his head, Jaskier smiled. “Thanks. Okay, no take-backs,” He joked. “You heard the end bit, but here’s what I’ve been working on.” After taking a moment to breathe, he started playing Her Sweet Kiss.

When the song was over, he shyly looked up at Geralt through his lashes. “What do you think? It’s still a bit rough, of course, though I think I might just end it that way...” By repeating the chorus.

It took Geralt a moment to find his words. “It’s good, but... Is that how you think of yourself?” He asked with a slight frown, the lyrics silently echoing between them; _I'm weak my love, and I am wanting_.

Another shrug from Jaskier. “The song isn’t really about me. Just something that popped into my head.” He deflected. “Anyway.” Standing up, he put the guitar aside. “Just give me a sec to grab my things, and then we can head out.” 

Clearly unhappy with the answer, Geralt’s expression darkened. But he let the subject drop, allowing Jaskier to lapse into irrelevant chatter.

***

Some time later, they reached the first destination of the night where they were meeting up with everyone else. It was a bowling alley which was fairly quiet, since it was the middle of the week. Triss and Yennefer were already there, saving the lane for the group. After exchanging their shoes, the guys moved to join them.

When Triss saw Geralt and Jaskier approach, she stood and smiled widely. “Hi!” She gave Jaskier a quick hug, and then faltered, looking awkwardly at Geralt. Moving carefully, giving her the chance to duck away if she wanted, Geralt cupped the side of her face briefly, before letting go.

Both Jaskier and Triss stared at him, slightly mystified. Ignoring them, he continued onward to sit next to Yennefer. “Werewolves are weird.” Jaskier muttered, before perking up. “We should come up with a secret handshake or something.”

Triss let out a huff of laughter, shaking her head.

About ten minutes later, Renfri and Ciri arrived. Hugs were exchanged, before everyone was seated at the table in front of the lane. “So!” Ciri began, clapping her hands together. “How are we doing this?” 

“Two teams; humans versus werewolves. Werewolves aren’t allowed to cheat.” Renfri said immediately. “You’ll have to use the lightest balls, and do your best with those; pull your punches. Humans can use whichever weight suits them.” She noticed Ciri (and Geralt, to a lesser degree) looking at her with dismay. “Not up for the challenge then?” Renfri asked coolly, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Yennefer replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

Renfri just grinned widely.

It turned out that between having to adjust their strength accordingly, and the noise of pins being knocked down, the werewolves were sufficiently thrown for a loop. Yennefer managed the best, often pulling off a spare (knocking down most of the pins on her first roll, and then the rest on the second attempt). Ciri usually had one or two pins standing, and Geralt often only knocked over half of them with the occasional gutter-ball.

Triss bowled about the same as Ciri, but sometimes managed to get a spare. Jaskier was completely useless, almost always getting a gutter-ball and not hitting any pins. “It’s been _years_ since I’ve bowled! And last time it was with the little balls!” He said defensively, after his second consecutive failure to hit any pins.

“I didn’t think you’d have a problem handling balls.” Yennefer drawled. “All talk and no game.” She tsked, shaking her head in feigned disappointment.

Jaskier made an outraged squawk in response, before making a rude gesture with his hand.

“Well.” Renfri announced, being the last to go. “Let me show you how it’s done.” She grandly rose from where she’d been reclining in Ciri’s lap. After pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek, Renfri sauntered up to the lane. After picking up her ball, she spent a minute positioning herself carefully, and then rolled a strike; knocking over all the pins in one go. To add insult to injury, she didn’t even wait to watch all the pins fall. When the ball made its first impact, she turned and confidently walked away from the lane.

“Cool guys don’t look at explosions?” Ciri asked, grinning up at Renfri, who shrugged with a smile and then resettled herself against her girlfriend.

“One strike is hardly that impressive.” Yennefer rolled her eyes, getting up to take her next turn.

In the end, Renfri got strikes on nine of her ten turns (she missed on her third go, but managed to still get a spare). Accordingly, she got the highest score. Yennefer came in second, Triss in third, then Ciri followed by Geralt, and Jaskier in last. Even accounting for Jaskier’s miserable score, Team Human managed to pull off a victory.

“As expected.” With a smug smile, Renfri exchanged a high-five with Triss, before giving Jaskier an affectionate noogie. He endured it with good humour, still smiling and buoyant from the victory despite having had no part in it.

“How are you so good at bowling?” Ciri asked with a grin, not even bothered by the loss. She sidled up to her girlfriend, giving her a quick congratulatory kiss.

“When you grow up playing with ‘wolves, you either learn to match them or get left in the dust.” Renfri shrugged. “Plus it’s _just_ bowling.”

They still had some time left with the lane, so Ciri insisted that Renfri give her a lesson, especially about proper form. Yennefer was a bit sour from the loss, but a combination of gentle teasing and flattery from Triss returned her to a good mood.

Thoroughly sick of bowling, Jaskier wandered off to the small selection of arcade games. There was a crane game, the kind with two types of prizes; one was skill based, and the other was a guaranteed win. 

Tongue poking out from his mouth in concentration, Jaskier gave his best try to pick up a large cupcake plushie. Unfortunately, it slipped from the crane at the last moment. But on the second turn, he managed to get a slightly flat smiling rainbow inchworm. While Jaskier was playing, Geralt was lurking just behind his shoulder. With a grand flourish, Jaskier presented the inchworm to him. “For you!”

Looking mystified, Geralt accepted it. He stared at it for a moment, before shoving it into one of his pockets. “Thanks?”

“You're welcome!” Jaskier grinned cheerily back.

***

The bowling alley shared a plaza with a cluster of other entertainments and restaurants, along with a movie theatre. From the alley, the group moved to the sandwich cafe across the way. Everyone ordered and got their food, before managing to fit all six of them into a booth. It was close, knocking elbows and barely enough table space, but somehow cozy.

“So what movie are we going to?” Jaskier asked the group, since they hadn’t agreed to it beforehand.

Ciri pulled out her phone and went to the theatre chain’s website. She read out the currently showing titles, which included a poorly rated chick flick, the latest superhero action blockbuster, an animated children’s movie, a few foreign films, and a horror movie.

Triss voted for the chick flick. When Yen voted against her for one of the foreign films, Triss gasped and jokingly cried “betrayal!” Ciri was genuinely torn, having seen the animated movie already but not being tempted by any of the other offerings. Geralt just shrugged, not caring one way or the other. Renfri rubbed her hands together excitedly and insisted that she’d heard good things about the horror movie.

Everyone turned to Jaskier, waiting for his choice. He hesitated. “Don’t suppose there’s a musical in the offerings?” He asked weakly, already knowing the answer was no.

“No, but I’ve heard Cheerleader Massacre IV has good action scenes.” Renfri announced, grin widening when that made Geralt give a "hm", sounding intrigued. Ciri looked skeptical, so Renfri leaned against her, looking up from under her lashes. “Big bad werewolf is scared of slasher flick?”

“What? Psh, no.” Ciri immediately said, super unconvincingly.

“Do any dogs get hurt?” Triss asked, frowning. “I hate when they kill off animals for a cheap shock.”

“Uhh, hold on.” Renfri quickly googled it. “Okay, yeah, no animal deaths.”

“Spoilers.” Yennefer sighed, aggrieved.

The conversation devolved into a petty squabble on what counted as a spoiler or not. Geralt rolled his eyes, leaning his head back, looking like he regretted everything. Jaskier elbowed him, with a grin. “Could be worse,” He pointed out. When Geralt raised his eyebrows, Jaskier continued, “They could be off chasing squirrels.”

Having heard that, Yennefer scowled and threw a handful of spare lettuce at him. Before Jaskier could retaliate, Geralt grabbed his hand. “No.” He said sternly to both of them, eyes briefly flashing red as he gave Yennefer a stern look.

Yennefer rolled her eyes but relented. Jaskier stuck his tongue out at her, which made Geralt gently cuff the back of his head.

***

From there, the group moved outside, before things escalated further. In the end, seeing the horror movie won out, on the virtue of both Renfri and Geralt wanting to see it, and no one else being able to come to a consensus.

“Will we be missing out on any lore?” Jaskier asked Renfri, as they went to get their tickets.

She shook her head ‘no’. “Basically, all you need to know is that the dude was a groundskeeper at a camp for cheerleaders. After a group of girls pulled a prank on him that led to his death, he rose with a blood thirsty vengeance for all the girls that came after. The camp burned down in the sequel, but it was rebuilt by the third one, and I guess it’s still operating in this one?”

Ciri stared at her girlfriend, clearly mystified. “You’ve seen all of them?”

“They’re fun.” Renfri shrugged, unrepentant. “Plus, Three has an implied romance between two of the girls, who literally run off into the sunset together. Oh, and, I heard for the next one, they’re going to _space_.”

“Do most horror movies escalate to space?” Triss asked, genuinely interested.

“You’d be surprised how often they do. That, and crossovers.” Renfri answered with a nod.

“Huh.” Triss blinked.

After buying their tickets, the group handed over their ticket stubs and were able to enter the theatre proper. The three werewolves immediately made a beeline for the concession stand, getting in line and began debating what combos to get.

“We _just_ ate?” Jaskier noted. He didn’t understand how they could still be hungry.

“Werewolf metabolisms.” Renfri pointed out, gently bumping her shoulder against his. “Bet you they’ll all get extra large combos.”

“I think I’ll take your word for it.” Jaskier replied with a huff of amusement, knowing that would be a bet that he’d lose.

With a shrug, Renfri sidled up to Ciri, resting her chin on her girlfriend’s shoulder and put in her two-cents about which chocolate she should get with her popcorn and drink.

Junk food successfully obtained, they wandered towards the screen that was listed on their ticket numbers. The theatre was open for seating, so they went in and claimed a row of seats up towards the top.

By the time trailers started to roll, all of the food had been devoured. The only surviving confection was a bag of Twix Bites that Renfri stole from Ciri and kept hoarded protectively against her chest.

“Good thing you grabbed napkins.” Jaskier said, as he nudged Geralt.

“Why?” Geralt asked. 

“So I could do this.” Jaskier replied, as he linked their hands together and squeezed gently. Yennefer and Triss were also holding hands. At the end of their row, Ciri pushed up her one armrest so she could snuggle up against Renfri.

The pre-roll changed into advertisements, and then finally, the lights dimmed as trailers began to play. Every trailer was either for another horror movie or a suspense film. By the end of them, Jaskier was already on the edge of his seat. While the movie started out peacefully, there was a lingering dread to it. As the action kicked off, Jaskier’s light grasp on Geralt's hand turned into a death grip.

He wasn’t the only one; at one point, there was a jump scare (the killer jumping out of a closet that the audience was previously unaware that he was in) that made Ciri give a loud yelp. Renfri couldn’t help laughing, and then pressed a kiss to her girlfriend’s head.

Murder and mayhem continued on-screen. At the end of the film, the final girl triumphed over the cheerleader killer... for _now_.

“I still can’t believe how cheap the first death was.” Yennefer groused, as the group exited the theatre. “You would think, after the first girl disappeared, the next one would know better than to wander out into the woods!”

“Right?” Triss agreed. “There’s a line between what someone would _actually_ do, and what they have characters do in these movies. _O_ _f course_ the blonde head cheerleader would have the first on-screen death. Typical.”

Meanwhile, Renfri and Geralt were deep in a discussion about the veracity of the final action scene. “You can’t—” Renfri was saying, miming a stabbing action. “Use an arrow like that. It would definitely snap in half first.”

“Her form was good.” Geralt argued. “And she was desperate. Desperate people are stronger than you’d expect.” Renfri tilted her head, silently conceding the point.

“The throwing axe part was cool.” She added, and Geralt nodded.

“Ugh. I’m still all tense.” Ciri groaned, dropping her head against Jaskier’s shoulder. “That was way more stressful than I was expecting.”

With a chuckle, Jaskier wrapped an arm around her, giving her a hug. “I bet you could convince Renfri to give you a massage when you get home.”

“Mmm, she does have nice arms.” Ciri agreed, dreamily.

Upon exiting the theatre, the group separated off into their respective couples for the drive home. Before Jaskier got on Geralt’s bike, he noticed Geralt was hesitating. “What?” Jaskier asked, tilting his head questioningly, the beginning of nerves in his stomach.

“Come back to the apartment with us?” Geralt asked. “Stay with me tonight.” He looked beseechingly at his boyfriend.

“Okay.” Jaskier agreed easily as he relaxed. Honestly, the idea of going home to his empty apartment was depressing. He wasn’t ready to be alone, away from the group.

***

Everyone was subdued when they got home, tired from the lively evening. Ciri managed to talk Renfri into giving her a massage, and they went together into her room. Triss started to get ready for bed, and Geralt went to grab extra pillows for Jaskier. That left Jaskier and Yennefer together in the kitchen.

“I’m getting a flashback.” Jaskier said lightly. “Hopefully you’re not going to give me another shovel talk this time.”

Yennefer let out a faint huff of laughter. “You’ve grown on me,” She admitted, before ruining it by saying, “Like a mold. Or fungus.” With a wrinkle of her nose.

“Gee, thanks.” Jaskier shook his head, mostly unbothered, before going to get a glass of water. He paused in his movements when Yennefer put a gentle hand on his arm. Jaskier looked over at her, in a silent question.

She leaned closer, speaking in a low murmur, likely in hopes of keeping the words between the two of them. “You've been good for the pack; tonight was a good idea. A few weeks ago, I wasn’t sure if Triss was going to stay around, but you helped win her over. And I’ve never seen Geralt be this gentle, with anyone.”

“Well...” Jaskier began, before trailing off into a flustered silence, unsure of what to say. He didn’t know how to handle the compliment.

“If you ever have a problem, and you don’t want to bother Geralt, come to me.” Yennefer’s face was solemn. “I’ll listen.”

“...Okay. Thanks.” Jaskier flashed a weak smile.

She nodded, paused, before adding; “But don’t tell Geralt I said any of that. He likes to pretend to be unaffected and capable, and it’s better if we allow him that delusion, hm?” Yennefer smiled mischievously, causing Jaskier to give a surprised laugh.

“What are you talking about?” Geralt asked, coming back into the room, and looking suspiciously between them.

“Oh, just scheming on how to overthrow you.” Yennefer replied breezily, giving Jaskier a conspiratorial wink. She kissed Geralt on the cheek as she went past him. “Goodnight,” Called over her shoulder as she went to join Triss.

Turning to Jaskier, Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“My lips are sealed.” Jaskier replied, smiling sunnily. “Don’t worry, when we do make our grab for power, I promise I’ll keep you around to be my arm candy.” 

“It’s good to be necessary.” Geralt noted dryly.

***

Funnily enough, after that, it got easier to make plans with all six of them. Soon, they were spending time together multiple times a week. It made Jaskier think that earlier, it wasn’t a matter of scheduling, but willingness, that kept them apart.

It was mainly still up to Jaskier to come up with ideas for outings (if left to Ciri, they’d stay in and watch movies; if Geralt, they’d only ever go to McAnally’s), but it was strangely fun. They went out to mini-golf, where the competition between the werewolves turned vicious, while Jaskier and Triss competed to see who could get the highest score.

The visit to the ‘paint your own pottery’ studio turned out to be surprisingly meditative. Triss had the best eye for colours, with Ciri and Renfri googling colour swatches for inspiration, and Jaskier simply stuck to the most eye searing combination possible.

Probably the least successful activity turned out to be the board game cafe. No one could agree on which rules to obey for Monopoly, and Geralt began to sulk when his proposition to play Risk was shot down. Jaskier thought that Candy Land was an inoffensive pick, though it turned out that combining it with alcohol resulted in several attempts to literally _flip the table_ (the main perpetrator being Renfri, though the fully sober Geralt and Yennefer were also guilty of it).

They even went out clubbing (Renfri’s suggestion), which was a middling success. The humans had fun ordering each other drinks with increasingly silly names, though the overwhelming noise bothered the werewolves. It had been years since Jaskier went out to a club, but it came back to him easily enough. He managed to drag Geralt out onto the dance-floor, though Geralt refused to move beyond crowding into Jaskier’s space, protectively shielding him from the crowd. Though that turned out to be nice, in its own way.

Things carried on peacefully, until Jaskier unwittingly caused a minor incident by declaring that Triss was his favourite. It was after she found a movie theatre playing a stage recording of the musical Les Misérables, and bought everyone tickets to see it. Geralt, Ciri, and oddly enough Renfri, all took issue with Jaskier’s announcement.

Next time they stayed in for the night, Geralt made sure to order all of Jaskier’s favourite takeout dishes. Ciri baked him his favoured dessert; a dozen red-velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. Renfri, meanwhile, produced an impressively large stack of musicals on DVD and insisted they see how many they could cram into one evening.

At the top of the pile was the 10th anniversary concert of Les Mis. It was that which caused Jaskier to realize what was going on. “You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?” He asked Renfri, though his point was slightly underscored by how he couldn’t help but smile

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Renfri replied haughtily, before shoving the pile over to him. “Now pick what you want to start with.”

Geralt glared at the pile of movies as if it had personally offended him, which clued Jaskier into his involvement. “And you!” Jaskier turned to stare at him, wide-eyed. “Renfri, I understand, well, kinda of, but you’re jealous of Triss? _Really_?”

Looking away, Geralt muttered something inaudible under his breath. Jaskier glanced over at Ciri for translation, but she just shrugged, apparently unable to hear it either. Briefly, Jaskier looked up at the ceiling, sighing, before getting up and approaching Geralt.

“You are a very silly man,” Jaskier began, taking Geralt’s face in his hands. “And I couldn’t be happier with you.” Geralt’s eyebrows raised in surprise, though his expression smoothed out when Jaskier kissed him. After a moment, Jaskier pulled away and whirled to face Renfri. “And you!”

He was thrown when Geralt wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in close, but Jaskier rallied himself and continued speaking to Renfri. “You are my favourite person who’s most likely to get me arrested, and Ciri, you would be my one call for someone to come bail us out. I still think Triss is delightfully thoughtful, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like any of you any less, got it?”

“Even me?” Yennefer drawled. “Why Jaskier, you’ll make me blush.”

“Yes, even you.” Jaskier gave an aggrieved sigh. “If only because you strike me as the sort of person who’d give Ciri the money to bail us out.”

“Well.” A surprised, pleased smile spread across Yennefer’s face. “I do what I can.” She demurred.

Against the back of Jaskier’s neck, Geralt grumbled something. Jaskier rolled his eyes, letting out a huff of amusement. “Yes darling, you’re a properly intimidating alpha.” The endearment slipped out without conscious decision on his part, and Jaskier hurried to continue in hopes of covering it up. “Remember, you brought me into the pack,” He quipped. “No take-backs.”

“I don’t know, I still think we should ask Roach about how she feels, being replaced as the pack mascot.” Yennefer added, causing Triss to burst into surprised giggles.

Jaskier’s mouth twitched and he valiantly tried to stop himself from smiling. “That’s it, see if I share my cupcakes with either of you! After all Yen, chocolate is bad for dogs.” He smirked as that made her growl, baring her teeth at him, though the effect was ruined by Triss giving her a chastising swat on the arm.

“Can you just pick a movie already?” Renfri asked. “I’m getting sick of screensaver on the TV.”

“I suppose that can be arranged.” Jaskier agreed, wiggling loose from Geralt’s grip to re-examine the stack of movies. He picked Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and soon everyone was settled in to watch it.

About half an hour into the movie, Ciri spoke up, re-opening the argument. “Anyway, if Jaskier _did_ have a favourite, it’d obviously been me. I’ve known him the longest.” She smiled smugly.

“Don’t even start, you.” Jaskier began warningly, jabbing a finger towards her. “I will turn this car around and take us back home, don’t think I won’t.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Geralt pointed out, letting out an ‘oof’ when Jaskier elbowed him.

“I always make perfect sense.” Jaskier replied loftily. Everyone else reacted with varying displays of amusement, making him gasp in mock outrage. “Well, _now_ I’m reconsidering where you all really rank on my list.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Renfri hissed. “I’m trying to watch the movie.” Yennefer made a noise of agreement.

With some token grumbling, Jaskier quieted down. It was, after all, a very good movie. Plus it was hard to be truly upset with Geralt curled around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Cheerleader Massacre is a real film, one which I haven't seen, so I cannot vouch for the quality of it. However, details about the events of the movie (and it's imaginary sequels) are entirely falsified. I probably should've made up a different franchise name, but I like the ring of the current one too much (and couldn't come up with a suitably quality replacement anyway).


	6. Chapter 6

Another night, another evening spent at the pack’s apartment. The ‘wolves were once again engrossed in a dog movie (this time, a mockumentary about dog shows) while their humans hung out in the kitchen.

Triss was knitting, Renfri kept stabbing wool repeatedly (aka needle felting), and Jaskier had a song stuck in his head that wouldn’t quite spell itself out on paper. He idly listened to the chatter between Triss and Renfri, occasionally chiming in when he had something to contribute.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and Jaskier instinctively knew someone was looming over him. He glanced behind him to see Geralt lurking at the boundary between the kitchen and the living room. “How long have you been there?” Jaskier asked, grinning.

“Oh, a few minutes, for sure.” Renfri chimed in. “We really need to work on your awareness.” He stuck on his tongue at her, and she flicked a spare bit of fluff towards him. Geralt clearing his throat got the attention of all three.

“Are you free next Tuesday?” Geralt asked Jaskier.

“Yep!” Jaskier replied cheerfully, knowing his schedule was fairly empty, being the summer and all. “Why? What do you have planned?”

Geralt looked uncomfortable. “It’s the full moon.”

“And?” Jaskier frowned as he tried to connect the question with the statement, before it registered. “Oh! Is everyone getting together for the full moon?”

In answer, Geralt silently looked over at Triss and Renfri, waiting for their answers.

There was a badly hidden smile behind Triss’ hand. “Yen gave me a heads up; I’ve had it booked off for two weeks.” She admitted.

“I’ll probably have to take a half-day from work, but I’ll be there.” Renfri added with a casual shrug.

Slowly nodding, Geralt seemed at a loss for what to do next. He bent down, pressing his face into the curve of Jaskier’s neck and inhaling deeply. After pressing a kiss to it, Geralt straightened up and silently went back into the living room.

Faintly flustered, Jaskier watched him go. He turned back to see both Renfri and Triss grinning at him. “Not a word out of you two!” Jaskier sputtered, jabbing a finger at them. “Like yours don’t do the same thing.”

“Oh, they do.” Renfri said. “But that doesn’t make it any less weird than when Geralt does it.” Triss nodded in agreement.

After giving an aggrieved sigh, Jaskier made a big show of hunching over his notebook and acting like he was alone in the room. He felt their eyes on him, but slowly, their conversation resumed.

He didn’t realize that Renfri’s answers were falling off, until she startled him by letting out a loud “Fuck!” The noise made him jump, and Jaskier looked at her to see what happened. She stuck her thumb into her mouth. “Stabbed myself.” Renfri muttered sheepishly around it.

“Let me see?” Triss asked, accepting Renfri’s hand gently. She looked it over before giving a decisive nod. “You should be okay. Hold on, I think I’ve got a band-aid in my purse.” Setting down her knitting, Triss wandered over to where she left her purse.

“Remember, you’re supposed to attack the wool, not yourself.” Jaskier teased. When Renfri didn’t reply, he realized she was staring down at the table, with a downcast expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“I...” Renfri glanced over in the direction of the ‘wolves, before leaning in close and speaking in a low murmur; clearly in hopes of not being overheard. “My old pack... We would get together every full moon; barbecue when it was nice out, and pizza when it wasn’t. I... haven’t celebrated a full moon in a year, not since I left them.”

Jaskier blinked. He _knew_ already that Renfri had come from another pack, but it hadn’t registered that it meant she had left one behind. “Why’d you leave your pack?” He asked softly, matching her volume.

Something shuttered in her expression before Renfri smiled wanly. “It’s a long story. I... I’ll tell you sometime. Not now.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Jaskier smiled companionably, using his foot to nudge against one of hers.

She rolled her eyes, but there was clear fondness there. A comfortable silence fell between them, before Triss returned and resumed fussing over Renfri’s minor injury. The rest of the evening progressed, and the moment with Renfri fell to the back of Jaskier’s mind.

***

Tuesday morning, Jaskier realized he had no idea what to bring with him for the full moon gathering. He called Geralt, who sighed and informed him; no, he didn’t need to bring a tent, but yes he would need his own sleeping bag, dinner was planned already, that Geralt had bought the steaks to eat raw—

Jaskier had a feeling that the last one was Geralt messing with him. Hopefully.

In any case, Geralt begrudgingly ended up inviting himself (and Roach, of course) along to Jaskier’s shopping trip. They trailed after Jaskier as he stared intently down at the list he’d made on his phone, mumbling to himself.

That distraction aside, Jaskier noticed that Geralt was behaving oddly – and had been, the previous two days. Noises were more likely to make him grimace, and he regularly drifted into Jaskier’s orbit, smelling and scenting him. It was almost nice, the extra attention, except for how uncomfortable Geralt seemed otherwise.

“This is what you meant, isn’t it. By the moon pulling at you.” Jaskier asked, under his breath, as he tossed another bag of marshmallows into the cart. He didn’t bother raising his voice, knowing Geralt could hear him, and was proven right by Geralt nodding.

“It’s... a lot.” He gritted out, looking equally pained by the admission and the discomfort it alluded to.

“Sorry.” Jaskier found himself apologizing immediately. “I’m almost done, you can head back to the apartment soon—”

“Come with me.” Geralt said, a statement rather than a question.

Still, it caused something warm to curl in Jaskier’s stomach; it was nice, to be wanted. “I’ll have to pack up my stuff, and then the three of us can go back; sounds good?” Geralt nodded, and Jaskier resolved to wrap things up quickly.

As trips to the store often did, the total added up to more than Jaskier was expecting. He winced as he went to pull out his wallet, and was stopped by Geralt. “The food is for everyone, and you just need the rest because of us. I’ll pay.” Geralt said, already tapping his card over the reader.

There was something smug about his admission, and Jaskier squinted at him until it registered. “Is this...” He leaned closer, speaking quietly. “Some kind of wolfy thing? Providing for me?”

Geralt didn’t reply, which said everything, really.

“You’re ridiculous.” Jaskier said with an amused huff, regarding his boyfriend fondly. “But thank you.” He pressed a kiss to Geralt’s cheek before pulling away. The corner of Geralt’s lips lifted into a smile, the line of his shoulders relaxing slightly for the first time that day.

***

Late in the afternoon, Triss and Renfri arrived, having finished their own preparations for that night. Yen and Triss took Triss’ car, along with most of the supplies. Meanwhile Renfri drove her own car, with Ciri in the passenger seat, and Jaskier, Geralt, and Roach all crammed into the back.

The trip out to the park felt like it took longer than it did; without saying anything, Geralt held both Jaskier and Roach close to him. Up in the front, Ciri seemed to be barely restraining herself from leaning over the console to press up against Renfri.

As soon as they pulled up to the clearing, both ‘wolves practically threw themselves out of the car. They crowded against Yen in a quick group hug, even though it had only been twenty minutes since they’d seen her last, before beginning to set up camp in surprisingly coordinated movements. The humans leaned on the car’s hood, watching the process.

“Geralt’s been miserable all day.” Jaskier said softly. “He seems to be feeling better, now that we’re out here though.” He held onto Roach’s lead, making sure the dog wouldn’t run off.

“Ciri too. Though she’s quite something in bed when she gets like this.” Renfri noted, with a satisfied little sigh. Triss made a noise in agreement.

“I wouldn’t know.” Jaskier admitted.

Both Triss and Renfri turned to look at him in the same movement. “Is... everything okay?” Triss asked, delicately. “If either of you are having... issues... with the mechanics, Yen has herbs that can help—”

“No!” Jaskier yelped, getting the attention of all three ‘wolves. He made a dismissive motion with his hand, and they resumed their actions. “No,” He lowered his voice. “We’re just... taking things slow.” Jaskier shrugged.

Triss and Renfri exchanged glances. “Well,” Renfri began after a moment, wearing a mischievous smile. “If you ever want to know what he likes, you can always ask Yennefer for tips—”

“You are terrible.” Jaskier admonished her, shaking his head. She bumped her shoulder against his, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I am a delight.” Renfri replied, before letting out a snort. “Okay, I’m going to go help them start a fire before someone gets hurt.” All three ‘wolves were gathered around the firepit, frowning down at it.

“This I have to see.” Jaskier announced, him and Roach following after her, with Triss bringing up the rear. “You know you can’t _actually_ set things on fire with your glare, right?” He drawled, looking pointedly at Yennefer.

“Would that I could, then we’d be rid of you.” Yennefer shot back, in a lilting teasing tone. Her smile widened when Triss sidled up behind her and pulled her close.

“Really? And here I thought it was witches who usually burned.” Jaskier returned, making an expression of mock surprise.

“You’re _really_ poking at a werewolf on the day of a full moon? Really? I _thought_ Geralt just kept you around for your looks, but that confirms it.” Yennefer said, rolling her eyes expressively. His head ducked as he fiddled with kindling, Geralt snorted.

“Betrayal!” Jaskier cried, clapping a hand over his chest and pretending to stagger back a step. Laughter rippled through the group. “If you must know,” Jaskier said a moment later, adopting a haughty tone. “I bring looks _and_ brains to the table. Just because you can only manage one of those, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t.”

“Oh so you admit that—” Yennefer began, but was cut off.

“Enough.” Geralt growled, glaring at both of them. When he turned back to the firepit, Jaskier stuck his tongue out at Yennefer, who let out a huff of laughter and made a rude gesture back.

“Here, can I try?” Renfri asked, as she crouched beside Geralt. Her tone was unusually diplomatic, deferential. She was clearly trying not to grate on his already frayed nerves. With a grunt, Geralt sat back on his heels. A few moments later, Renfri got the fire going.

“What do you all usually do?” Jaskier had to ask, wondering how they made a fire the other times, if it gave them such trouble.

“Lighter fluid. A lot of it.” Ciri replied, making Renfri snort and Jaskier laugh. “It’s a good thing our eyebrows grow back quickly.” She added, giving Geralt a sidelong look.

“That was _once_.” Geralt sighed, aggrieved. He relaxed slightly when Jaskier came to crouch beside him, resting a comforting hand on his back.

With the fire taken care of, tents were set up, bedrolls were placed, and supplies were laid out on a nearby picnic table. Everyone sat about, chatting, with Jaskier idly playing his guitar, until it was almost time for dinner. “Right!” Jaskier said, clapping his hands together, before deflating. “I have no idea how to cook any of this.” He admitted, looking at the food that was laid out.

“I’m starting to see what Yen meant, about keeping you around for your face instead of your mind.” Ciri teased, gently bumping him aside. “Start cutting up the vegetables,” She instructed, as she used a knife to open up the package of pre-cooked sausages.

“Bossy, bossy.” Jaskier tsked, as he did as she’d asked. Ciri jokingly bared her teeth at him in response to the mock chiding. Between the two of them, they made skewers of meat and vegetables, along with some diced mini potatoes to cook in a foil packet. Jaskier didn’t notice earlier, but there was a grill for cooking beside the campfire, that was to be placed over the coals.

Once the food was cooked, everyone sat around the fire, eating. The couples sat together, the ‘wolves crowded up close to their humans, and Roach happily laying behind where Geralt was sitting. After dinner, the making for s’mores was produced. “I don’t think I’ve ever made these over a campfire.” Triss admitted, with Jaskier sounding his agreement.

“How would you even make these at home?” Renfri asked, baffled.

“Well, using a coal barbecue. Or just broiling the whole thing in the oven. That’s easier to do, but also messier.” Triss replied with a shrug. “It was something we did in the summer sometimes.”

“Huh.” Renfri said, before snickering as Jaskier’s marshmallow caught fire – again. “Use the coals, not the flame.” She corrected him with a grin.

“Look,” Jaskier began, unsure of what he was even going to say next. He made a pleased noise of surprise as Geralt offered him a perfectly golden brown toasted marshmallow, swapping it for Jaskier’s charbroiled one.

By the time everyone was stuffed full of sugar and chocolate, they moved over to the picnic table. In the dimming light, they had to use a lantern to help see. From her pack, Ciri produced several battered packs of Uno cards. Jaskier stared at her, wide-eyed. He recognized those decks. “No,” Jaskier said. “We’re not.”

Ciri grinned widely. “Oh, we are.” They begin to play the card game, but with modified rules. Every time someone put down a seven, the person who played the card traded hands with another player of their choosing. On a zero, everyone traded hands in whichever direction that the turns were going in. Finally, if one couldn't play a card because none matched the current conditions, they had to draw from the deck until they got a playable card. Winner went to whoever won five hands first.

The game lasted over two hours, and it was pure chaos.

There was laughter, there was tears, there was a deadly rivalry between Renfri and Yennefer. Yennefer finally won, but only by one hand. “Damn it!” Renfri snapped, throwing down her last two cards. “I almost had you.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.” Yennefer replied with a smirk.

Renfri grimaced and seemed to be barely restraining herself from throwing herself at Yennefer. Giggling, Ciri began to pet her girlfriend’s hair, trying to be soothing, but she was laughing too hard to speak. Her and Jaskier kept ending the games with massive amounts of cards in their hands, not even in the running to win, and so dedicated themselves to throwing obstacles at the other players.

Whatever Renfri was going to say next was cut off by the sound of howls ringing in the distance. As one, all three ‘wolves turned their heads in that direction, listening. Night had finally fallen by the end of the game, and the full moon was visible in the sky.

“It’s time.” Geralt decided, as he stood up. Yennefer and Ciri nodded as they did the same. They began to take off their clothes, putting them down in a neat pile. Well, Yennefer and Ciri did. Geralt just tossed his aside, because apparently he was raised in a barn.

Once all three were fully naked, they transformed. First was Geralt, followed by Yennefer, and then Ciri. Unlike the fight at the bar, this time all three shifted fully into their wolf form. Geralt threw back his head and howled, the other two joining in. After a glance back at Jaskier, Geralt nodded and took off into the woods, his ‘wolves following behind him.

Silence fell in the clearing, until Jaskier spoke. “Well. That was... something.” He got up and started gathering Geralt’s discarded clothes. Jaskier made sure to keep a hold of Roach’s leash, as she glanced longingly after her human. “Now what? And no more Uno.” Jaskier stipulated, when Renfri got a speculative look on her face.

“I brought my laptop and a power-bank.” Triss suggested. “And I’ve got a bunch of movies saved to my external. We can probably find something to watch.”

“Someone planned ahead.” Renfri said, with an approving nod. “That sounds good.” 

To avoid bugs, they went into one of the tents, sitting on Triss’ sleeping bag with a blanket pulled over their legs, and Roach curled up on Jaskier. What to watch resulted in a fierce debate, with Renfri suggesting the Friday the 13th movies (which Triss had downloaded at her recommendation), and Jaskier arguing _against_ watching horror movies set in a creepy forest whilst they were actually in a forest.

Triss suggested a teen rom-com from the nineties called 10 Things I Hate About You, which Renfri begrudgingly agreed to. By the time it was over, everyone was still wide awake, so they put on the Clueless movie next. Two-thirds of the way through, Renfri reluctantly bowed out, since she had gotten up early for work that morning. Jaskier and Triss both managed to make it to the end, though they were half-asleep by that point.

After bidding Triss goodnight, Jaskier took Roach over to the tent they were going to share with Geralt. Once he made sure Roach was settled, Jaskier laid out his sleeping bag and got in. Listening to the sound of the dog’s breathing, he drifted off to sleep.

At some point during the night, the sound of someone unzipping the tent woke Jaskier up. He squinted, and relaxed when he realized it was Geralt. “Pajamas are over there,” Jaskier told him with a yawn, before laying back down. There was rustling as Geralt pulled the clothes on and got into his sleeping bag.

Once he did, Geralt curled himself around Jaskier. He snuffled at the back of Jaskier’s neck before pressing a kiss there. Jaskier made a happy humming noise, slipping back to sleep with Geralt’s warmth surrounding him.

***

The next morning was subdued. Jaskier woke up alone in the tent, but he could smell that someone was cooking breakfast. After sleepily changing into his clothes, he emerged from the tent, and then promptly doubled back for a blanket because it was colder than he was expecting.

“Please tell me someone is making coffee.” Jaskier said, as he perched on the picnic table next to an equally bleary Triss. She made an affirmative noise.

Renfri and the ‘wolves were gathered around the fire. Geralt, seeing that Jaskier was awake, wandered over to him. “Good morning,” He said, leaning down and kissing Jaskier.

“Mmm, good morning.” Jaskier replied when Geralt pulled back. “Have a good time, communing with nature?” Geralt made a noise that probably meant yes as he pressed his face against Jaskier’s neck, breathing in and kissing it, before drawing back slightly.

“What about you?” Geralt asked, still bracketed between Jaskier’s legs.

“Oh, we did okay.” Jaskier replied lightly, smiling helplessly up at him. “Watched some movies.” He shrugged. “It was nice. All of this has been,” Meaning the whole trip. “Though I could do without the Uno blood-sport next time.”

“Never!” Ciri called from her spot over by the fire. 

Jaskier snorted, and then realized Geralt was staring down intently at him. “What?” He asked. Distantly, he noticed Triss slipping away, going to stand with Yennefer.

“Thank you for being here.” Geralt replied, as he leaned back in and kissed Jaskier deeply. When he pulled back, Jaskier stared at him, dazed, until he remembered what Geralt had said.

“Of course. It’s what’s done, right?” Jaskier asked. “When you’re pack, I mean.” And that made Geralt kiss him again and again, until someone nearby cleared their throat.

“Alright lovebirds,” Renfri drawled. “Stop being disgustingly adorable and budge over, it’s time to eat.”

“I think calling them adorable is an overstatement.” Yennefer teased, setting down plates of food as Triss poured out drinks. “I’d just go with just disgusting, myself.”

In too good of a mood to take it to heart, Jaskier just rolled his eyes. Then he perked up when the bitter scent of coffee hit his nose. “Oh god, finally,” He groaned, clutching the mug close. “Please tell me there’s milk and sugar.” From the corner of his eye, Jaskier saw Geralt looking at him. “What?”

Geralt just shook his head, smiling faintly, before taking the seat beside him.

Once breakfast was eaten, everything was put away. The camp was taken down, supplies stashed once more into Triss’ car. After making sure the fire was safely doused, everyone got into their respective vehicles, and began the drive home.

***

The first two weeks after the full moon passed peacefully. Everything ticked along fine, and Jaskier found himself relaxing into the routine that the pack had set up. In retrospect, that was his mistake. He really should’ve known better.

At the start of the third week, Jaskier jolted awake to someone banging on his apartment door. His heart immediately started racing, because _nothing_ good ever came of middle of the night emergencies. Stumbling out of bed and pulling on a shirt, Jaskier made his way over to the door.

He squinted out the peek-hole, wincing against the light from the hallway outside. When he realized it was Ciri, standing alone, Jaskier undid the locks and wrenched the door open. “What—” Jaskier began to ask, and then grunted when Ciri threw herself into his arms.

She was crying too hard for Jaskier to make out what she was trying to say. Jaskier pushed her away to an arm’s length, giving her a once over. “Are you hurt?” He asked, checking for blood. Sniffling, she shook her head. “Is anyone _else_ hurt?” Another silent ‘no’. “What happened?” More silence, accompanied by tears.

Re-locking the door, Jaskier steered her into the living room, flipping on the light and gently pushing her towards the couch. He sat down beside her, and she immediately crowded close to him, tucking herself under his arm. “It’s Renfri,” Ciri finally said, after a long, nerve-wracking moment.

“What about her?” Jaskier asked, hand pausing in the motion of brushing through her hair.

“It— she—” Ciri sniffed again. In a belated realization, Jaskier grabbed a nearby box of Kleenex and passed it to her. After blowing her nose, she continued. “Renfri was using me.” Ciri said through more tears.

“That doesn’t sound like her.” Jaskier frowned. “What happened?” He repeated.

With a long shuddering sigh, and blowing her nose again, Ciri finally started to explain. “Yen, Triss, Renfri, and I were out tonight. We went to the Velvet Room, that fancy cocktail bar?”

“You went out without me?” Jaskier had to ask, in a moment of misplaced concern.

“Jaskier, focus.” Ciri sighed. “It was a girls night. Besides, if we invited you, we’d have to invite Geralt, and he hates that place. Can I continue?”

Right, friend in crisis. Slightly sheepish, Jaskier nodded.

“Thank you. So...” Ciri began.

***

The music was loud, and the air was thick with the scents of the people crowded into the place. But luckily there was Renfri to focus on, the reassuring sound of her heartbeat, the familiar smell of her hair.

“You smell goooood.” Ciri said happily, leaning heavily against her girlfriend, and lolling her head to look up at her. It took _a lot_ of alcohol to get a werewolf tipsy, but a bottle of tequila before heading out had taken care of that issue.

“Thank you.” Renfri replied primly, making Ciri giggle. “Now c’mon, you said you had to go to the bathroom.” She steered them around another table, smiling politely at its inhabitants.

“Hey, isn’t that—” Someone nearby said. Frowning, Ciri tried to crane her neck to see who it was and who they were talking about.

“What are you—” Renfri asked, and then stiffened as two men stepped in front of them. “What do you want?” She demanded, tone a touch too... something to be speaking to a stranger. Her arm around Ciri’s shoulders tightened.

“I thought that was you!” The first guy said, leering at Renfri. “Was starting to wonder if you’d turned tail and run off.” He chucked at his own joke.

The second man pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “What Bob means,” he said, “is that we thought we would have heard back from you by now.” His gaze landed on Ciri, and his eyes widened. “Is that...?”

“Yes, now _fuck off_.” Renfri hissed.

Unfortunately, Bob didn’t listen. “Oh, is that one of them?” He whistled. “Damn, she’s pretty. If you’ve gone traitor for her, well, I almost don’t blame you, eh, Raymond?” Bob elbowed his companion, who looked aggrieved.

Something cold trickled down Ciri’s spine. “Renfri...” She began slowly, standing straighter and blinking rapidly. “What are they talking about?”

“Ciri, I can explain,” Renfri spoke quickly, her eyes darting between Ciri and the two men. “Really, it—”

“Yen.” Ciri said loudly, hopefully loud enough to be heard over the music and the crowd. “I need you.” She pushed herself away from Renfri, staggering back slightly. Suddenly, Ciri wished she hadn’t allowed herself to get drunk, but it was supposed to be _fine_ , tonight was supposed to be safe.

“Ciri—” Renfri began again, reaching out for her.

“Don’t touch me.” Ciri snapped, definitely loud enough to draw concerned gazes from nearby patrons. A murmur began to spread through the room. “Why do they know you? What are they—” Her eyes landed on Bob’s bared bicep, at the stark black symbol inked there. “You’re from the Srebro pack.” She remembered hearing about the pack, their propensity for violence. Ciri looked back at Renfri with a dawning realization. “They’re your old pack.” Renfri had a recent tattoo with identical placement; a cover up, she’d said.

Renfri’s expression darkened and she whirled to glare at Bob. “You fucking moron! What was your plan here? What part of me being undercover didn't register to you?” Then, back at Ciri. “I can explain—”

“What is going on?” The commotion had _finally_ drawn Yennefer’s attention, and she took in the scene; Ciri, swaying on her feet, visibly upset. Two strangers who instinctively moved to stand behind Renfri, deferring to her. Renfri, with dawning panic on her face.

“Yen, I know this looks bad,” Renfri’s voice was low and urgent. “But I promise—”

Ciri managed to move over to Yennefer, making a noise of relief when the other woman caught her. “They’re the Srebro pack, they said something about Renfri being undercover,” Ciri began to explain, lump rising her throat.

Yennefer snarled silently, and Renfri flinched. “What was your Alpha hoping, hm?” Yennefer asked, voice low and deceptively calm. “You knew you couldn’t take us in a fair fight, so you decided to try something else?”

“I—” Renfri began.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Ciri said miserably, slumping against Yennefer, suddenly exhausted “Just go.” When it seemed like Renfri was going to protest, she added, “ _Please_.”

Flinching, Renfri reluctantly nodded. “Okay. Okay, for now, I will.” She jerked her head in a silent order to the other two. Edging around Yen and Ciri (a worried and confused Triss hovering nearby), the three left, with Renfri casting one last anguished glance at Ciri.

When the door closed behind them, Ciri burst into tears.

***

“I had them bring me here,” Ciri said, “And then I sent them home.”

“So Renfri was... spying on us?” Jaskier frowned as he tried to make sense of her fractured retelling. “Why?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t exactly say. But,” A broken chuckle. “Pretty sure that means we’ve broken up. That she didn’t even want me in the first place.” Ciri started to cry again. “Jas, I loved her.”

“Shh,” Jaskier murmured soothingly, holding her close and rocking slightly. “It'll be okay.” Truth be told, he was pretty far out of his depth; werewolf pack politics was beyond him. But breakups? That was something he was intimately familiar with. “I think I’ve got some Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer. And I’ve still got my blu-ray of 27 Dresses. Sound good?” Wordlessly, Ciri nodded.

***

For a week, Ciri camped out on Jaskier’s couch, wrapped in blankets. Yennefer and Geralt took turns coming over to the apartment, checking in on her and offering silent reassurances. Triss provided more ice cream, as well as actual food. And each time Ciri asked, she got the same answer; no, they hadn’t heard anything from Renfri, or anyone else from the Srebro pack.

For his part, Jaskier did his best to act like it was any other breakup. Still, though he didn’t dare to press Ciri further, it just didn’t make sense to him. He thought he knew Renfri, or understood her, at least. She’d seemed so sincere about wanting to be part of Geralt’s pack.

That was why, when halfway through the second week, Jaskier wasn’t surprised when Renfri showed up outside his apartment. “How’d you know she was here?” He asked, crossing his arms and moving to block her line of sight as she tried to peer past him into the apartment.

“It just made sense.” Renfri admitted. “I know how important you are to her, and she’d fall back on familiar comforts, after...” Trailing off, she winced.

“After what you did.” Jaskier finished. Silently, Renfri nodded. “Why?” He asked.

“I promise, I’m not here to hurt her.” Renfri began. “I just want a chance to explain myself. And then if she doesn’t want anything to do with me after that, I... I understand.”

Thinking it over, after a moment, Jaskier stepped back, implicitly giving her permission to come in. “Because I think she’d be happier with you, than without you.” He said quietly. “And I’m hoping this was just a misunderstanding.

“ _Thank you_.” Renfri said with feeling.

“Don’t thank me just yet. Besides, you’re lucky that Geralt’s not here at the moment.” Jaskier couldn’t help adding. “He wouldn’t have let you in.” She winced but nodded. Together, they walked into the living room.

Ciri was distracted, staring down at her phone. “Jas, who was that—” Her head snapped up and she stared at Renfri. “What... what are you doing here?” Ciri asked, voice trembling.

“I—” Renfri began, before she glanced from her to Jaskier, clearly uncomfortable with having an audience.

“If you need help, just scream.” Jaskier joked to Ciri, as he sheepishly edged towards his room. By the time he got there, closing the door behind him, the two women had already forgotten his presence, talking lowly and intently to one another.

***

Later, Jaskier got the full backstory out of Ciri;

Renfri’s pack was hoping to make a move on one of the territories in the city, and had heard about what had gone down when Ciri was bitten. They’d sent Renfri in on a reconnaissance mission, to gauge the strength of Geralt’s pack. When months passed without hearing from her, they sent some ‘wolves in to try and track her down.

If Renfri was to be believed, her silence was deliberate; refusing to divulge any of what she had learned when settling into Geralt’s pack. She had chosen Ciri, Renfri said. She was just unsure of how to break away from the Srebro pack. They weren’t even her birth family, but one that had adopted her along the way, and she felt indebted to them for that.

While Ciri was reluctant to fully believe her, she agreed to take Renfri back. It would take time to rebuild the trust between them, but both were willing to put in the work.

Welcoming her back into the pack wasn’t so easy. Both Geralt and Yennefer were reluctant to trust her after what she had put Ciri through. Renfri was put on a kind of probation, such as not being allowed along on the next full moon. Neither Geralt or Yennefer were willing to leave her alone with the vulnerable humans, in case she took advantage of the situation. As well, she was restricted to only being around the pack while out in public, such as at bars and restaurants.

After a month of this, Ciri eventually managed to convince Geralt to contact the head of the Srebro pack. The two met on neutral ground, at McAnally's, each accompanied by their second. The alpha assured Geralt, with no small amount of bitterness, that Renfri had left their pack.

Another advantage of being a ‘wolf was the ability to tell whether someone was lying. In this situation, it helped redeem Renfri.

Things were still tense between her and Yennefer, who was always slower to change her mind. But Renfri was making progress on that front, slowly and surely. And it was all going so well, until the pack got home from a night out to find a dead body in front of their apartment.


	7. Chapter 7

Realization slowly rippled through the group; Renfri spotted the body first, and gave a sharp surprised inhale. Ciri, right behind her, briefly frowned at the reaction until she saw what her girlfriend was reacting to. Jaskier bumped into Ciri when she came to an abrupt halt, and opened his mouth to complain; the words died on his tongue when he saw it.

Geralt was beside Jaskier, he and Yennefer tensing up. Triss was the last to notice that something was wrong. The group spread into a rough semi-circle, staring down at the body. It was a man, slumped over with his back against the apartment’s front door. The only blood was a small trail that trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“What did you do?” Yennefer immediately snapped, turning to Renfri.

“It wasn’t me.” Renfri protested, holding up her hands. She crouched down, reaching out and touched two fingers to the man’s neck. Feeling for a pulse, Renfri didn’t find one. “He’s dead.” She confirmed, sitting back on her heels.

Jaskier marveled distantly at the lack of blood, before it sunk in that he was staring at a _dead body_. “Oh my god.” He said faintly, staggering back a step. Bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed it down.

Gently, Triss put a hand on his back and steered him away so they were no longer looking at it. “It’s okay.” She soothed, rubbing his back reassuringly, as Jaskier concentrated on breathing steadily in and out.

“Who is he?” Geralt asked, craning his neck to try and get a better look at the face.

“I think...” Ciri said slowly, leaning in to look. “I think he’s the one from the bar, that you left alive so he could tell the rest of his pack about your warning...” She trailed off, and then blinked. “There’s a note.” It was stuck to the man’s chest with a push-pin. Tugging it loose, Ciri scanned it over.

“It just says...” She frowned, cleared her throat, and then began reading it out loud; “‘A gift from the Haines pack. You’re welcome. XOXO.’ Who the hell are the Haines?”

“What the fuck.” Yennefer said, plucking the note from Ciri’s hand and squinting at it. “It actually says ‘XOXO’. Who does that? Does anyone recognize the handwriting?” She passed it to Geralt, who shook his head.

“Wait...” Triss spoke up. “Did you say Haines?” Everyone turned to look at her. “I... that sounds familiar for some reason.” She peered at the paper and nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen that handwriting before. I don’t know where, though.”

“You’re staying with us.” Yennefer announced. “Until we figure out who did this, and why.” Triss frowned, about to protest, but Yennefer gave her a firm look. “I want to keep you safe.” She insisted, voice soft. Reluctantly, Triss nodded.

Geralt handed the note back to Yennefer, who folded it up and tucked it away into one of her pockets. She stared at the body for another moment longer, before sighing. “I guess we’ll have to call the police.” As Yennefer pulled out her phone, Renfri stopped her.

“Believe me, we don’t want to have to explain how we found it. And we don’t want to get the Haines in trouble, whoever they are. I’ll take care of it. I know a guy.” Renfri explained. Yennefer raised her eyebrows skeptically, before sighing and reluctantly nodding. Whoever they were, it was a wise decision to try and not upset the Haines.

As Renfri began the call, Geralt finally realized that Jaskier was still freaking out. Moving over to him, Geralt put his arms around him. “It’s okay, I’ll keep you safe.” He promised. Slumping into his hold, Jaskier nodded, closing his eyes.

***

Surprisingly quickly after Renfri’s call, two people in suits showed up. After a quick conversation with her, they picked up the body and left. “What was that?” Ciri asked, slightly mystified.

“Someone owed me a favour.” is all Renfri would say, with a shrug. “Now we should probably get out of the hallway before we attract any attention.” She ushered the group back into the apartment.

A few days passed without incident, until someone slipped a letter under the apartment door one night. It was a formal request on the behalf of the alpha of the Haines pack, to meet with the Rivia pack at McAnally's that Thursday night at 11 pm.

There was no way to respond, but without a reason to say no, the pack agreed among themselves that they would go. Both Yennefer and Geralt wanted the humans to stay behind, until Renfri pointed out that would be leaving them undefended. “The safest place for us is with you.” She said with a shrug.

Reluctantly, they conceded that she had a point.

So, come that Thursday, the pack got to McAllay’s, showing up half an hour early. They claimed their usual booth, and waited for the Haines pack to make their arrival.

Around 11 pm, a group of three women approached the table. The leader was a gorgeous brunette with striking features. In the position of her second was someone who shared her looks, likely her sister. Bringing up the rear was a blonde woman with wavy hair who was much shorter than the other two.

The leader made eye contact with Geralt. “I’m Amy Haines, Alpha of the Haines pack. I believe you had some... issues...” She said delicately, “With my predecessor, the one who’s son turned a member of your pack.” Her eyes flickered over to Ciri, giving her a respectful nod. “With me is my second, my sister Jess,” Gesturing to her. “And my Emissary, Lily.”

“Hiya.” Lily said, raising a hand in greeting. “Did you like our gift? That was my idea... Oh my god! Triss! Hi!”

“Lily! Jess!” Triss slid out of the booth and gave both Lily and Jess a hug. “It’s so good to see you! How’s your daughter doing?” Yennefer clearing her throat got Triss’ attention, who smiled sheepishly. Taking a step back, she turned back to her pack. “I helped deliver their baby, a few months ago.” Triss explained.

“That... explains why handwriting on the note seemed familiar to you.” Yennefer said, before signaling Triss to come back to the table. Rolling her eyes, Triss did so. 

When Geralt opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something uncomplimentary, Yennefer elbowed him sharply in the side before addressing the other Alpha. “On behalf of Geralt, as his second,” Yennefer said, shooting him a glare, then refocusing on Amy, “Consider us well met. I assume your... gift... was a peaceful gesture?”

“Yes.” Amy confirmed. “To show that I don’t want there to be an enmity between our pack, especially after hearing that the Shrike had left the Sebro pack for yours.” She gave Renfri a nod. “In fact, I would like to unite our packs. I’ve heard the Rivia alpha is unbonded, as am I.” Amy gave Geralt a meaningful look, while Geralt stared back, expression unreadable.

“Please excuse us.” Yennefer said, “We need time to consider your generous offer.”

“Of course.” Amy made a signal to Lily, who stepped forward. “With your permission, I would have you contact Lily so we may meet again when you’ve made your decision.”

“Triss already has my number.” Lily pointed out, dryly. “But yeah, call me and we’ll set up a meeting.” With Amy giving a final nod of acknowledgement to Geralt, the Haines representatives turned and left the bar.

Awkward silence descended on the table. Jaskier opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Yennefer. “Don’t.” She warned him. “Not until we’re back at the apartment.”

***

The group split up for the trip home, and met back up at the pack’s apartment. Renfri and Ciri took the couch, while Triss sat on the armchair. Geralt stood next to the couch with his arms crossed, while Yennefer stood next to the armchair, glaring at him. Jaskier hovered awkwardly beside Geralt.

“We need to do this carefully,” Yennefer was saying. “We don’t know how many people are in the Haines pack, or how strongly Amy is positioned. If she’s out making alliances, that suggests she’s fairly confident that she’s going to stay the alpha.”

“Lily has some magical abilities” Triss spoke up, causing Yennefer to look at her questioningly. “I... don’t really know any specifics, but she mentioned being able to do some healing. The only reason she even wanted a midwife was because she was the one giving birth.”

Yennefer grimaced. “Healing requires quite a bit of power, so that means she’s strong. I think it’s safe to say that means Amy has a witch on her side. Makes sense that she’d choose Lily to be her Emissary, then.

“What’s an Emissary anyway? Also witches are real? Magic is real?” Jaskier asked, bewildered.

“A Emissary is like a supernatural diplomat,” Renfri explained. “Traditionally, they’re witches or wizards, able to also provide magical backup and support for their pack. So yes, magic is real. The existence of werewolves didn’t clue you in?”

“Well, I don’t know!” Jaskier shot back defensively. “Does that mean fairies are a thing? Vampires? Ghosts? Oh god, my life is turning into a bad episode of Supernatural.” He bit at his thumbnail in a nervous gesture. “But okay, so. Witchy witch supporting scary werewolf who probably killed a bunch of other ‘wolves to become alpha. That’s not terrifying at all.” He began to pace, speaking faster as his anxiety increased. “When we turn her down – I assume we’re turning her down? – if we piss her off, she’ll, what, eat us all up? Oh my, what big teeth you have. In fact—”

“Jaskier.” Geralt snapped, cutting him off with a scowl. “Would you all do us a favour and shut up for once? Let the grown-ups handle this.”

The colour drained from Jaskier’s face as he abruptly closed his mouth.. Silently, he turned and left the apartment. In the ringing silence that folowed, the sound of the door closing behind him seemed very loud.

“...Fuck.” Geralt said.

***

It seemed like the moment Jaskier got back to his apartment, someone was knocking at his door. Closing his eyes, he sighed heavily before going to check who it was. When Jaskier saw it was Geralt, the petty side of him was tempted to just ignore him. But then Geralt might kick up a fuss, so Jaskier flung the door open.

“What do you want?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt started with a grimace. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s nice to know what you really think of me.” Jaskier retorted, hurt still stinging in his chest. “You should take the Haines alpha up on the offer, unite your packs. Since obviously she’s a better match for you.”

Geralt paused, taking in the reply, and then his expression darkened. “What have I been doing wrong?” He asked.

“What.” Jaskier replied flatly.

“You keep—” Geralt began, but Jaskier cut him off with a slightly hysterical laugh.

“Are you seriously _blaming_ me for being upset right now?” Jaskier said, eyebrows shooting up. “What, I should just accept you being an asshole?”

“No!” Geralt snapped, starting to look frustrated.

“I can’t believe you. This is the worst apology I’ve ever heard in my life! Bad enough that you belittle me, but now you’re yelling at me? Go on, what other flaws of mine do you want to point out? Since apparently you’re on a roll!” Jaskier waved his arms around wildly as he spoke, pacing back and forth.

“What do I need to do to convince you that I actually want to be with you?” Geralt yelled.

Jaskier froze, and then turned to face him. “I don’t think you can blame me, for having doubts after what you said. Besides,” Jaskier’s voice quieted. “It’s only a matter of time, really. Before I get to be too much and you leave. Everyone always does.”

Tentatively, Geralt stepped into the apartment. He slowly reached out one hand, giving Jaskier the opportunity to move away, before gently cupping his face. Leaning forward, Geralt pressed their foreheads together for a long moment, before drawing back.

“I was stressed, and I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have.” Geralt’s voice was unusually soft, gaze intent on Jaskier. “Since I first saw you, I’ve wanted you. That hasn’t changed yet. And it won’t.”

“How do you know that, though?” Jaskier asked. “And how am I supposed to believe you, when you say things like that, and you don’t want to touch me? Do you know Yennefer tried to corner me the other day, to tell me what you liked her to do when you were fucking her?”

Eyes widening, Geralt blinked. “No, I didn’t know she did that. And I...” He sighed. “When Yen and I first met, I was in a bad place. We had sex right away, and then constantly after that—” Jaskier’s face twisted and he went to turn away. “Jaskier,” Geralt said insistently, making him look back. “We thought that’s what a relationship was, that it would keep us together. It didn’t. With you, I’ve been trying to be better.”

“You should have told me.” Jaskier said, his voice quiet. “Instead of just breaking things off before they could go any further, without any explanation. If I don’t know what’s wrong, it makes me think it’s somehow my fault.”

“I’m sorry.” Geralt repeated. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Jaskier just shrugged silently; Geralt grimaced but continued; “That’s why Amy thought I was unbonded, because our scents haven’t mingled yet beyond being packmates.” 

“Do you even want to?” Jaskier asked. “To tie yourself to me that way.”

“I do.” Geralt insisted. “I...” He braced himself before continuing. “I love you. I want us to be mates.”

“I... I don’t...” Jaskier stuttered, before sighing. “I don’t know how to respond to that. What does that even mean?” A fact from long ago rose to the forefront of his mind. “Wolves mate for life, don’t they?”

“Yes, but werewolves don’t.” Geralt watched as the words made Jaskier visibly relax, only to tense up at the following words “We chose people like humans do, the same as when they marry someone. It means pledging yourself to one person.”

A heavy silence fell; doubt crept onto Geralt’s face. “If you don’t feel the same way, if it’s too much...”

“I know you mean it, but I also don’t believe you.” Jaskier admitted, looking away. “Which is why I don’t know if I can say any of that back to you.” For the time being, at least.

Shoulders slumping, Geralt slowly nodded. “I understand. If you want me to go—”

“No, don’t.” Jaskier blurted out. Suddenly the thought of Geralt leaving him felt unbearable. The anxious voice in his head insisted that it would mean it would be an ending to them. “Stay with me.” Tentatively, Jaskier closed the distance between them and kissed him.

When they parted for air, Geralt searched Jaskier’s expression. “I will. As long as you’ll have me.”

Making a broken noise, Jaskier kissed him again; deeper, needier.

“Are you sure—” Geralt asked, after they separated again.

“Don’t pull away this time?” Jaskier asked desperately.

“I won’t.” Geralt promised, as he walked Jaskier backward into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

***

After, when they showered and got redressed, the pair walked out to find the rest of the pack in the living room. They were piled onto the couch, watching a cooking competition on TV. “How— what—?” Jaskier sputtered, staring at the group. “How did you get in?”

“You left the door unlocked.” Ciri replied with a shrug.

“You shouldn’t do that. It isn’t safe.” Renfri chimed in, her arm slung around Ciri’s shoulders. Ciri smiled up at her before snuggling in closer to her side.

“We wanted to make sure that you and Geralt were okay.” Triss added.

“Which, it seems like the two of you patched things up.” Yennefer smirked, looking between the two. 

Ciri seemed confused for a moment, not sure what Yennefer meant, before realization struck and her expression cleared. “Oh god. I don’t know if I’m happy for you or not.” She scrunched up her face. “I do _not_ want to know what kind of thing about Geralt.”

“What?” Jaskier sputtered. “You can tell? Also!” He jabbed an accusing finger at Ciri. “You tell me things about you and Renfri! How is that any different?”

“It just is!” Ciri shot back, crossing her arms with a huff.

Whatever Jaskier was going to say in response died on his lips when he heard Geralt quietly chuckle. Surprised, Jaskier looked over to see Geralt smiling. As usual, it was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. That made Jaskier relax, any indignation falling away. “Don’t you look like the cat that got the canary.” He said quietly.

Geralt shrugged, unrepentant. With a hand on the middle of Jaskier’s back, he steered him over to the vacant loveseat. He sat down first, and then tugged Jaskier down to sit in his lap. It took a moment for them to arrange their limbs into a comfortable position, but then they settled.

A peaceful silence fell as on the television, one of the chefs began to sauté some strange vegetables. Yennefer waited for a commercial break, until she spoke. “I’ll start working on a polite way to turn down the Haines offer.”

“Good.” Geralt simply said, arm briefly tightening around Jaskier as he pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s head. Jaskier smiled up at him, until Yennefer made a cooing noise, so he had to flip her off. Only the show returning from break stopped any chaos from breaking out.

***

The next day, Yennefer via Triss sent a text to Lily, telling the other woman that they would like to meet again so the Rivia pack could give their answer to the Haines’ proposal. It would be a short meeting, which was their gentle way of hinting what their answer was.

Lily replied right away, and plans were made to meet up the next night; same time and place.

In the end, Yennefer’s carefully crafted rejection wasn’t even necessary. As the Haines pack, the same three members as last time, drew close. Amy’s nostrils flared, and she blinked. And unlike last time, Geralt had Jaskier situated at his side, an arm over Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Oh!” Amy blinked, and then strangely enough, smiled. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea you had an intended. Had I known, I never would’ve made that offer. Please, accept my apologies, I meant no disrespect.” Her tone was genuine, and she seemed truly sincere.

“It’s fine.” Geralt replied. “No offense taken.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Amy nodded. “Excellent. Well, even if we can’t join our packs, that only slightly changes our proposal." A pause. "I would like us to remain civil with one another.” She clarified, before continuing. “If your pack needs anything, we would be happy to help. We have no claim to any territory except for the houses we own, so there won’t be any nonsense about that.”

“As a smaller pack,” Yennefer spoke up. “We would be unable to match yours in terms of contributions. But, I think I speak for Geralt, when I say that we hold no enmity towards you. As long as you keep your word, there won’t be any trouble.” Geralt nodded, silently backing up Yennefer’s words.

“Of course, that’s entirely understandable.” Amy nodded her agreement. “Honestly, at the most, we might call Triss for matters beyond Lily’s scope.”

“Which I would be happy to do.” Triss interjected. Yennefer shot her a look, clearly unhappy with this. Triss stared defiantly back, raising an eyebrow in challenge, and Yennefer let out a huff, silently conceding.

“Though if you wish to accompany her, that’s fair too.” Amy didn’t bother to bite back her amused smile. “Is it still okay if we keep points of contact between Lily and Triss?”

“Yes.” Triss answered before Yennefer could. Still, Amy glanced at both her and Geralt for confirmation, before accepting the answer.

“Good! I can’t think of anything else.” Amy cocked her head slightly. “Anything you wanted to add to our agreement?”

“No,” Yennefer shot Triss an exasperated glance, before turning to Amy. “I think that works for now. If anything comes up, we’ll be in touch.”

“As will we.” Amy nodded at Geralt, before she turned and left. Lily made a ‘call me’ motion to Triss, which Jess (Amy’s second) rolled her eyes at, using a hand on Lily’s back to steer her wife towards the door.

Several moments after their departure, Yennefer turned to Triss with a frown. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone with another pack.”

“If it’s something medical that I can help with, I will.” Triss spoke with a quiet determination. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself otherwise. Besides, I only was at McAnally's that night because Lily and Jess brought me there to celebrate. We owe them for introducing us.”

A complicated series of expressions crossed over Yennefer’s face before she heaved a sigh. “Be that as it may—”

“You can come with me, if you want.” Triss interrupted. “And I’m glad that me knowing Lily and Jess makes it easier for our packs to keep in touch.”

Finally, Yennefer gave a reluctant nod. “Fine.” She begrudgingly conceded.

“Excellent!” Ciri pipped up, clapping her hands together. “I’m going to go get a drink. All this pack business has made me thirsty.” Renfri moved out of the booth, since she was close to the end, Ciri following after her.

“You didn’t even do anything.” Jaskier pointed out. Ciri stuck her tongue out at him, with him doing the same back

“I never would have guessed that you’re older than her.” Geralt teased, leaning in to nuzzle against Jaskier.

“I’m young at heart.” Jaskier replied loftily, which made Geralt quietly chuckle.

***

Life resumed peacefully after that. Still, Jaskier was tightly wound, waiting for _something_ to happen. Because something always did. But summer slid gently into fall; a new school year started, and Jaskier’s workload increased as classes resumed. When a change occurred, it was due to Ciri’s intervention.

Ciri had gently coaxed Jaskier into telling her about his fight with Geralt. “Have you considered talking to someone?” She asked. “Not me, not like this, I mean. But to a counselor or something Obviously, you can’t tell them about the werewolf thing, but... Still.”

“What?” Jaskier’s knee jerk reaction was to frown. “I’m fine, it’s fine. I don’t need therapy.”

“There’s nothing wrong with seeing a therapist.” Ciri insisted. “I started seeing one after my parents died, and then again after losing my grandmother. I still see one every month or so, just to check in.”

“Oh.” He felt slightly shamed. “I didn’t know that.”

“It isn’t easy to bring up in conversation.” Ciri admitted with a shrug. “Geralt doesn’t get it either, but...” She sighed. “Your feelings are valid, and you aren’t a burden. But it is a lot to put on someone. And if you doubt someone long enough, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Believe me, I know.” Her smile was strained, and slightly sad.

“I... I’ll think about it.” Jaskier conceded.

“That’s all I ask.” Ciri told him. “Thank you.” She reached for his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.

In the end, the last push was a flier that Jaskier saw one day on campus. He didn’t realize that his university offered counselors to provide psychological support to students. Remembering his conversation with Ciri, thinking how he didn’t want to push Geralt away, Jaskier made an appointment at the counselling center.

***

Time passed. One night, Jaskier and Geralt were having a date night. In essence, it simply meant they had Jaskier’s apartment to themselves. After sex, and then dinner, they curled up on the couch together. Jaskier stared at the television screen, not really seeing it, before he cleared his throat.

“I— I’ve been going to therapy.” Jaskier admitted. He felt Geralt’s focus shift to him, but he kept his gaze ahead so as not to lose his nerve. “It’s... been helpful, actually. Talking about how between not being close to my family, and several bad breakups, and Ciri disappearing, I’ve... got a bit of a complex.”

His hands began twisting together in a nervous gesture; Jaskier jumped when Geralt gently took his hands and held them. He still didn’t say anything, and so Jaskier continued; “I’m trying to be better. It's _terrifying_ though, now that I have you and the pack—” Jaskier swallowed around a lump in his throat. “I don’t want to lose you, or them.”

“You won’t.” Geralt finally spoke, speaking with a surety that Jaskier envied.

Blinking away tears, Jaskier gave a weak laugh. “I’m working on trying to believe that. Because that is what I want, to stay with the pack. And with you.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Geralt murmured, kissing Jaskier’s cheek. There was a pause, and then Geralt sheepishly admitted; “Ciri... gave me a talk, a little while ago, about the importance of therapy and being supportive. But I still want you to tell me if you feel like something is wrong.”

“Go Ciri.” Jaskier found his mood lifting. “And I’ll try. To tell you when I’m feeling upset, I mean. But it isn’t a reflection of you, you know? It’s just me.”

“Okay.” Geralt said, giving Jaskier’s hands another reassuring squeeze. 

A comfortable silence fell, before Jaskier spoke up again. “What are we even watching? This movie makes _no_ sense, and the acting is awful, and,” His rant continued, Geralt listening with an amused and indulgent smile.

***

A Saturday arrived without any plans, save that the pack would spend it together. In spite of that, Ciri sent Jaskier, Geralt, and Roach to run a series of errands. Included was a run to the dollar store for napkins and a cheap tablecloth. Finally, there was an extensive grocery list, along with some cooking implements. She had them drop everything off at the apartment, and then ordered them to stay away until she called them back for dinner. “Oh, and bring dessert.” Ciri instructed, before closing the door.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not actually in charge of the pack at all?” Jaskier had to ask, caught between amusement and anxiety over not knowing what was going on.

“Sometimes.” Geralt admitted. “What are you going to do?”

“What?” Jaskier asked, turning to face him.

“For dessert.” Geralt clarified.

“Uhh...” After trailing off, Jaskier shrugged. He took a moment to think. “Brownies and ice cream are pretty easy to whip together. I just have to get a box mix... And more ice cream. We cleared out my supply of it, last time everyone was over at mine for movie night.”

For some reason, that made Geralt sigh. Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “That means going back to the store.” Geralt explained, shifting his hold on Roach’s leash.

“You could go back to my apartment, you don’t have to come with me.” Jaskier pointed out.

“No.” Geralt simply said, as he moved towards the elevators. Smiling, Jaskier followed after him.

***

As the brownies baked, Geralt and Jaskier cuddled on the couch together. Roach slept on their legs, while Jaskier’s cat Luna sulked in his bedroom. The two animals had come to a tentative truce, in that Roach didn’t care about Luna, and Luna refused to be around her.

While Jaskier didn’t have the food channel, he _acquired_ several seasons of his favourite cooking competition. He set the timer for the brownies on his phone, and then queued up a playlist of episodes.

“Oh!” Jaskier perked up, raising his head from where it was resting against Geralt’s shoulder. “Look, one of the competitors is using the ice cream maker! That will either win it for them, or it’ll end in tears.”

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed as his arms tightened briefly around Jaskier.

Tearing his gaze away from the screen, Jaskier glanced at Geralt. He seemed on the verge of falling asleep, looking as content as a cat sleeping in a sunbeam. There was something deeply gratifying about how blissed out Geralt was, from something as simple as being together and watching television. 

“If you fall asleep, you’ll have trouble sleeping tonight.” Jaskier pointed out, keeping his voice soft despite himself.

There was no response; Geralt had already drifted off.

***

Finally, come evening, Ciri granted permission for them to come back to the pack’s apartment. Geralt perked up when they got out of the elevator. Jaskier didn’t understand why, until the door opened and the smell of turkey and stuffing spilled out of the apartment.

“What?” Jaskier asked, deeply confused.

“Ooh, brownies!” Ciri said happily, grabbing the baking pan from Jaskier.

“And ice cream.” Geralt added, gently pushing Jaskier forward into the apartment.

“I thought you couldn't cook?” Jaskier asked Ciri, still mystified. He watched as she set the brownies on some empty counter-space, and put the ice cream into the freezer.

“Oh, I can’t.” Ciri was entirely at ease admitting that. “I can peel potatoes though. And cut up veggies. And do general organizational stuff.”

“Ugh, is the gravy ready yet?” Renfri asked, looking over her shoulder at her girlfriend. She was at the stove, stirring it. “My wrist is starting to get tired.”

“Do the spoon test.” Ciri instructed imperiously. “Triss, is the turkey done?”

Just as she asked, the sound of a phone timer went off. “Let me check.” Triss maneuvered past Renfri, gently moving her aside so she could open the oven and stick a meat thermometer into the bird. “Okay, yeah. Now we let it rest for a bit.”

“Perfect!” Ciri turned back to Jaskier and Geralt. “Jaskier, go join Yennefer in the living room. Geralt, set the table.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Geralt grumbled, even as he went to take plates out of the cupboard.

“Because something tells me that Jaskier was the one who made dessert.” Ciri shot back, as she spread out the cheap red tablecloth on the table. Geralt grumbled, but didn’t refute it.

Jaskier took the long way around the kitchen, not wanting to get in the way. Sure enough, Yennefer was settled on the couch, watching a baking competition where people tried to recreate elaborate cakes and other confections. “Banned from the kitchen?” She asked, tone implying that was what happened to her.

“Granted leave.” Jaskier returned. He sat down on the far end of the couch, until Yennefer gave him a look. “What?” He asked defensively, not sure what he had done wrong.

With a roll of her eyes, Yennefer silently reached out and tugged at Jaskier until he moved closer. When he was suitably situated against her, she turned her attention back to the television.

At first, Jaskier found himself sitting stiffly. He wasn’t used to Yennefer, of all people, initiating contact. But soon he found himself relaxing. It was nice, the warmth of her, and the white noise of chatter from the kitchen.

“Okay, dinner’s ready.” Ciri announced, halfway into the second episode.

“Finally.” Yennefer groaned, sitting up and stretching. She stood first, offering Jaskier a hand up. He accepted it with a nod of thanks.

There was barely enough room on the table for all food and everyone’s plates. Yennefer and Geralt got into an argument over who would carve the turkey, until they realized Triss had already done it. “Seriously though,” Jaskier asked, once everyone had filled their plates. “What’s the occasion?” He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a full turkey dinner like this.

Ciri shrugged, shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth. Once she swallowed, she spoke, “We’ve had one in the freezer for ages. Also, I thought it would be nice. Just because we tend to get takeout doesn’t mean we can’t have a proper meal sometimes.”

“And keeping it a surprise?” Jaskier prodded.

At that, Ciri looked sheepish. “Geralt knew already,” She admitted, “Since he saw the turkey defrosting in the fridge. Anyway, I figured why not?”

“It was definitely a surprise.” Jaskier agreed. Which made Ciri preen, satisfied that her plan had panned out.

***

Once everyone had their fill and leftovers were packed away, the group collapsed onto the couch. Even though the armchair was right there, and it was a tight squeeze, no one elected to move away. Jaskier was fairly sure that was Ciri’s elbow digging into his side until he shifted, and Triss’ legs were heavy on his lap. Somehow though, it ended up being oddly comfortable.

The contented silence lasted a long moment, until they realized no one had picked up the remote to turn the television back on. “Not it!” Ciri cried with Renfri echoing her.

“Well, I can’t move.” Yennefer insisted. “And Triss has been on her feet the most today.”

“It’s okay, I can get it,” Triss started to say, though Yennefer held her closer so she couldn’t leave. “Yen,” She started laughing. “Really, I’ll be right back.”

“Nope.” Yennefer simply said.

As the bickering continued, the volume rose; Yennefer began talking louder to drown out Triss’ protests, while Renfri talked about something unrelated, trying to be even louder. Over it all, Jaskier could feel Geralt sighing.

That, on top of everything else, made Jaskier grin up at him. “You can pretend you have regrets, but you love us.” He pointed out.

Geralt’s gaze softened as he slowly returned the smile. It disappeared when Yennefer began to flail and her arm whacked his head. “Yen!” He snapped. She snarked something back, as Triss dove for the remote, and Jaskier laughed until his stomach hurt.


	8. Chapter 8

They were having a quiet evening in, Jaskier and Geralt, just the two of them for once. Jaskier sat on the couch while Geralt was stretched out with his head resting in Jaskier’s lap. The television was on, volume turned down low, playing a cooking show.

There was a low buzz as Jaskier’s phone received a new text. He read it, and gave a quiet huff of laughter. Geralt made a noise that indicated he wanted to know what was so funny. “Ciri just found out that Renfri owns an apartment building,” Jaskier explained, a smile in his voice. It had come up when Ciri invited the other woman to move into the pack’s apartment. “Did you know that?”

“No.” Geralt grumbled, sounding like he didn’t care one way or another.

“One of these days, you’re going to have to find out where Renfri gets all her money from.” Jaskier pointed out. Personally, his pet theory was online poker. That, or there was some kind of werewolf mafia.

“Ugh.” Geralt sighed expressively, making Jaskier laugh again.

Another comfortable silence fell; Jaskier managed to text one handed, using his other hand to run through Geralt’s hair.

“What kind of lease do you have?” Geralt asked suddenly, pulling himself upright into a sitting position.

For a moment, Jaskier was distracted from replying, enjoying the movement of Geralt’s muscles. He blinked back to attention and shrugged. “A yearly one,” Jaskier admitted. “I renew it each September.” 

“Move in with me,” Geralt replied, before clarifying. “Into the pack apartment.”

“I…” Jaskier hesitated, clearly caught out by the request.

“You don’t have to decide now.” Geralt amended. It was late-July, the hazy days of summer. “Something to think about it.”

“I will.” Jaskier agreed. “Think it over, I mean.”

Satisfied, Geralt nodded and lay back down. Jaskier went back to playing with Geralt’s hair, albeit absentmindedly.

***

A few nights later, Jaskier and Yennefer were alone together. She was working on teaching Jaskier some basic self defense, on the basis that he needed more than a can of bear spray to protect himself if the pack ever got attacked. The lesson was taking place at a gym, which was oddly empty. Another favour that Renfri had called in, apparently.

Jaskier grunted as Yennefer flipped him over her back, again, and he landed hard on the mat. “Okay, now you’re just looking for an excuse to throw me around.” He complained, slightly winded, staring up at the ceiling.

Yennefer’s face appeared in his vision. She rolled her eyes but was smiling as she offered him a hand up. “I would never.” Her tone was entirely unconvincing. “I wouldn’t risk upsetting my alpha by bruising up his boyfriend.” 

Grumbling indecipherably under his breath, Jaskier accepted her hand as he pulled himself up. He rubbed at his elbow, which had hit the ground hard when he fell. “Are we almost done?”

“We can take a break.” Yennefer agreed, walking over to a nearby duffle-bag and pulling out two water bottles. Coming back, she passed one to him, and they sat down side by side on the mat.

“How’s Renfri settling into the apartment?” Jaskier asked.

“She takes really long showers.” Yennefer grumbled. There was still friction between the two women from when the whole drama with the Srebro pack went down.

“God forbid.” Jaskier rolled his eyes, and snickered when it made Yennefer push at his shoulder.

“...I want Triss to move in.” Yennefer admitted after a moment. “But she says the apartment isn’t big enough for all of us. She thinks we should buy a house.”

That made Jaskier raise his eyebrows, surprised. “The two of you?”

“No,” Yennefer shot him a look that said he was an idiot. “The whole pack. It was something Geralt and I always talked about, but,” She gave a shrug, a rare self-consciousness coming over her. “There was no point when it was just the two of us.”

“...Hm.” Jaskier shifted slightly. He was working on it, but references to Geralt and Yennefer’s shared past made him uncomfortable.

Picking up on it, Yennefer gave him a side-glance as she continued talking. “Now that there’s six of us, though… We just need to find a house big enough for everyone, and that’s secluded away from nosy neighbours.”

Jaskier gave an amused snort, picturing Geralt standing at a barbeque in the backyard of a suburban home, while the people next door, who thought the pack was some kind of weird sex cult, peeked over the fence. 

Yennefer looked over and raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Jaskier relayed his mental image to her, and smiled proudly when it made her laugh. “Yeah, exactly.” She nodded. After clearing her throat, she continued with a carefully casual tone; “Geralt told me how he asked you to move in.”

“Yes, well…” Jaskier trailed off, nervously screwing and unscrewing the cap of the aluminum water bottle. “It’s only been a few days. I’m still thinking about it.”

“Renfri’s keeping her apartment.” Yennefer volunteered. “For when her and Ciri need alone time. I’m sure she’ll make a set of keys for you, so you and Geralt can use it too.” She took in Jaskier’s uncomfortable expression. “Geralt wouldn’t have asked you to move in if he wasn’t sure, and if Ciri and I weren’t okay with it.”

“Even if I take long showers too?” Jaskier asked lightly.

“Oh, never mind then.” Yennefer matched his joking tone as she stood and stretched. “Okay, come on. That’s enough for one night. Let’s go home.”

***

“Jaaaaskier,” Ciri said in a sing-song voice, falling down onto the couch beside him and snuggling in close. “Why are you here?”

He looked over at her, his mouth twitching into a smile. “You mean what am I doing, being here, in my own apartment?” Jaskier had been fiddling with his guitar, but he’d set it aside to make room for Ciri.

“Yes, that.” Ciri nodded in agreement. “I _know_ Geralt asked you to move in with us.”

Jaskier’s breath hitched. It had been weeks since then, and Geralt hadn’t brought it up again. That made Jaskier think the offer had been rescinded. Or that Geralt hadn’t meant it in the first place. “I… Do you want me to?” He asked, instead of voicing any of that.

With a glance up at him, Ciri appeared to bite back her first instinct to give a flippant answer. Still, her voice was light when she spoke. “And have more of my favourite people in one place? _Of course_ I want that.”

“...Oh.” Jaskier was still working on believing that people actually wanted him in their life.

“And before you ask her,” Ciri continued, “Renfri’s also in favour of it. She says she needs another human around to vote against us watching Airbud.”

That surprised a laugh out of Jaskier, which made Ciri smile. “Seriously,” She continued, voice going gentle. “I’ve wanted us to be roommates for ages. Things just never seemed to line up.” Her shoulder moved in a self-conscious shrug.

He was tempted to ask ‘really?’ but the sincerity of her tone was answer enough. “When I decide, Geralt will be first to know.” Because that was only fair. “But you’ll be next in line to receive the news.”

“As it should be.” Ciri agreed, loftily.

***

A few more days passed, with Jaskier stewing things over. _They'll get sick of you_ , the cruel part of his mind whispered. Which might be true, but… The future Yennefer had painted earlier, of the whole pack living together, had settled somewhere in his chest. He wanted it. And moving into the apartment was the first step in moving towards that future.

The evening after he came to a decision happened to be one where the entire pack was gathered at the apartment. Everyone was curled up together on the couch, which continued to be a snug fit. Renfri and Jaskier were playing Animal Crossing, while Triss knitted, and the ‘wolves were engrossed in watching a compilation of puppy clips on YouTube.

A brief silence fell as the next video loaded up. Jaskier cleared his throat. With a glance at him, Ciri paused the video. “Who’s free this weekend?” Jaskier asked, with the ‘wolves giving him a worried look over how his heart was hammering in his chest.

Replies rippled through the group; no one had any plans. “Well,” Jaskier continued. “I’ll provide pizza for whoever helps me move.”

Both Geralt and Ciri froze. “Are you…” Ciri began, speaking carefully. “Moving into a new place?”

“Here,” Jaskier confirmed, before tacking on, “assuming the offer still stands.” His last words were nearly drowned out by the loud whoop that Ciri let out, while Jaskier found Geralt pressing somehow closer to him.

“Of course it is.” Geralt murmured, the words vibrating against the skin of Jaskier’s neck.

“Took you long enough,” Yennefer teased, though she was smiling as she nudged Jaskier with her foot. “Now all we need is for Triss to join in.”

“You need a bigger bed.” Triss replied serenely.

“But one wouldn’t fit in my room…” Understanding dawned on Yennefer. “Oh.” Renfri snickered and Yennefer shot her a dark look. Then she shifted her focus towards Geralt. “Trade with me, I want the master bedroom.”

“No.” Geralt immediately shot down the idea.

“But—”

“ _No._ ”

They continued to bicker, as Triss smiled, apparently pleased with the chaos she had wrought. Ciri unpaused the video, and Renfri took advantage of Jaskier’s distraction by surrounding him with boobytraps in the game.

***

_Three Years later_

“Why do I have so many books? I’m going to go through them this weekend.” Jaskier complained, as he pushed aside a box labelled ‘more books’, in search of the box that held the plates.

“That’s what you said last time too.” Ciri replied cheerfully, from the stool she was perched on at the kitchen’s island.

“You could help, you know.” Jaskier pointed out, aggrieved. “Why are these boxes even here? They should be upstairs...”

“But I’m tired,” Ciri whined, dramatically flopping onto the island. “Us big bad werewolves did most of the heavy lifting. Which is _also_ why all your dumb books aren’t in your room yet. You only carried, what, one box?”

“Which is more than Triss carried.” Jaskier replied, making a triumphant noise when he _finally_ found the dishes, despite them being in a box labelled ‘misc’.

“Hey, don’t rag on the pregnant lady.” Triss shot back, through the screen door from where she was reclining in a chair on the backyard deck. It was her and Yennefer’s first pregnancy, carefully planned so that the baby would be born soon, six months after their wedding.

“Yeah, Jaskier, leave my wife alone,” Yennefer added, voice a shade too aggressive, curled up around Triss. It earned her a reproachful swat on the arm, so she sighed loudly and tacked on, “please.”

“Also I’m pretty sure I carried more boxes than you,” Renfri said to her girlfriend, as she entered the kitchen carrying three pizza boxes. Recently, Ciri had confided in Jaskier that she was waiting for Triss and Yennefer to have their kid before she proposed to Renfri.

In the present, Ciri stuck her tongue out, and then went “nooo,” as Renfri pulled the boxes away in retaliation.

“Plates.” Jaskier declared, pulling out stack and setting them on the island. “Because not all of us were raised by wolves.”

Just in time to hear the final part, Geralt came into the kitchen with the last of the boxes. He growled, though his attempt at intimidation was underscored by how he crowded into Jaskier’s personal space to press a kiss against his neck.

Before Geralt could pull away, Jaskier grabbed his wrist and tugged him back in. “Hey,” Jaskier began softly, as Triss and Yennefer entered from the backyard. It was their first meal as a pack inside their new house; that night, Jaskier and Geralt would curl up together in the master bedroom, after going through a bedtime routine that had become so familiar. “Love you,” He said out loud for the first time, punctuating it with a kiss.

Geralt’s loving gaze as they drew apart was interrupted by Yennefer asking loudly if they were done making a scene yet, because she was hungry, while Renfri complained about one of the pizzas being Hawaiian, and Triss defended her cravings. Ciri was already cramming pizza into her mouth, as Geralt told her to slow down, for god’s sake.

Jaskier surveyed them fondly before going to join his pack - his family.

***

_Addendum_

It was a perfect fall day; bright and sunny, not too hot, not too cold. Jaskier was out in the backyard, playing fetch with Roach. He’d never encountered a dog who loved playing fetch as much as she did. Every time, she eagerly chased after the ball, and brought it back, dropping it at his feet without being asked.

Just as Jaskier was about to throw the ball again, there was rustling in the woods that bordered their backyard. His attention was drawn to Roach, who suddenly stilled, before erupting in joyful barking and running into the woods.

“Roach!” Jaskier called, chasing after her. She was usually so well behaved, she’d never run off like that before…

Right as Jaksier reached the tree-line, an enormous white wolf emerged with Roach prancing a circle around him. Immediately, Jaskier relaxed, shoulders slumping; he remembered that the only reason he was out in the backyard was to wait for Geralt to get back from patrolling the borders of their land.

“Hey you,” Jaskier said warmly, reaching out and ruffling behind his boyfriend’s ears. With a pleased sound, Geralt pressed into his touch. After submitting to the affections for a long moment, Geralt started herding Jaskier away from the woods. “Okay, okay.” He laughed, allowing himself to be moved back towards the porch.

“Wanna play fetch?” Jaskier teased, bending down and scooping up the ball. If wolves could roll their eyes, Geralt would’ve. Instead, he just levelled Jaskier with a thoroughly unimpressed look. Snickering, Jaskier threw the ball, and Roach bounded after it.

“So, just the usual suspects of rabbits and deer?” Jaskier asked, already knowing the answer. Were there anyone else besides the occasional hiker, Geralt would be freaking out. With a grunt, Geralt nudged against Jaskier’s legs, until he caught the hint and sat down. Geralt followed him down, resting his head in Jaskier’s lap.

Familiar as Geralt’s wolf form was, from years spending full moons with the pack, it was still unusual to see him that way during full daylight hours. Still, Jaskier had to admit, there was something nice about absentmindedly running his hands through Geralt’s thick fur, the ruff around his neck, while Geralt slid into a relaxed state.

Roach returned with the ball, dropping it on Geralt’s head, where it then rolled off onto the ground. His eyes flew open and he gave her a warning growl. Grinning back, Roach pranced back and forth, clearly hoping Geralt would play with her. “Am I not enough?” Jaskier asked her, giving a mock gasp of offense.

The dog, of course, gave no reply.

When Geralt refused to join her, she drooped slightly, laying down nearby and sulking. After a long moment, Geralt heaved a sigh as he rose. Moving over to where Roach was, he pawed at her, and pushed her towards where Jaskier was sitting. Then he pointedly lay down behind Jaskier.

With a happy hum, Jaskier leaned back against Geralt. Roach positioned herself so her head was resting on Jaskier’s leg, and the lower half of her body was touching Geralt.

Jaskier let himself drift, lulled by the rhythmic rising and falling of Geralt’s side. 

He wasn’t sure how long it was until the back screen door opened, and people stepped out. “Puppy piling without us?” Ciri called. A moment later, there was the sound of paws against the wood of the deck, as she shifted and scampered over to join them. Whining happily, Ciri curled around Jaskier’s other side.

Yennefer heaved an aggrieved sigh. Despite her posturing, she was soon lying alongside Ciri. Triss settled against her wife, holding their toddler. Jacline slipped from her arms, and transformed into a puppy. Yipping, she ran circles around the group.

With a mock growling sound, Renfri scooped the pup up and started rubbing her tummy. “Who’s gonna be a ferocious alpha and usurp Geralt? You are!” She cooed, as Jacline wiggled around excitedly. Renfri was her favourite, for some reason.

Geralt grumbled, but subsided when Jaskier elbowed him.

Renfri set Jacline down, who continued to run around. Roach rose up to join her, and the two were soon tearing around the backyard. Renfri took her place, leaning back against Jaskier’s side.

A peaceful silence settled over the pack, as they watched Jacline and Roach play, enjoying the moment, and each other’s company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! I'm so so sorry this last chapter took me so long; my life kinda imploded for a bit and my will to write went away. I'm posting this literally five minutes after I finished writing it, haha. Thanks again for everyone who read this, who left kudos, and super extra thanks to those who left nice comments!
> 
> ***
> 
> EDIT, Oct 9 2020: Jay, from the Witcher server I'm part of, helped me realize I neglected to include boyfriend pets, so I had to write a small scene where that happened, haha.


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